The Boy Who Waited
by DonofLolz
Summary: What if the remote house up in snowy mountains DID have someone inside? What if Alistair Clarke found what he thought was salvation? What if things didn't end as well for the SOS Brigade as they would have liked?
1. The Desperation

The wind and snow were like an inferno as the group trudged through the endless snowy terrain. Kyon shook inside of his coat, the coat that was supposed to keep him warm. Hell, he had to stare at the floor just to take a breath. They had been walking for a good thirty minutes now and they still hadn't made contact with anyone else or even seen any signs pointing them to the base of the mountain. How was it possible that they had gotten lost on a track that took no more than ten minutes to climb? And where had the storm come from? Kyon's breath rattled with cynical laughter as he stared at the coat ahead of him. Who else could make them lost on a remote mountain by a blizzard of snow? Damnit Haruhi, what had you gotten us into this time? He kept on shuffling and nearly toppled over Haruhi's still form.

"Watch it!" Came a far-off yell from the hood. Haruhi was angry, but the way her face was flushed and her lips were turning white didn't exactly make her very threatening. Kyon peered over her and spotted the two forms ahead had stopped too, their heads now close. Clarke's fur hood turned back to the group and waved. Kyon pulled the cord that connected Koizumi and Mikuru to him and they stood in a tight circle, at last able to face each other. No one looked well as they stood there in the snow. They looked scared. Clarke's hood was covered tiny crystals and glistened in the semi-light that managed to pierce the blizzard.

"Okay, I've got some bad news!" He bellowed over the wind, "Yuki and I can't find any trace of a way back and this blizzard isn't showing any signs of slowing down!" Kyon's heart sunk. What did he mean they couldn't find a way back? Didn't they have some kind of built-in GPS? Clarke pulled out a knife and shakily opened the frozen blade.

"Miss Suzumiya, permission to cut myself loose and search for the base of the cliff on my own? We're not going to get anywhere as a group and we won't last long if this snow keeps up." Of course, Clarke knew exactly what she was going to say. She would protest half-heartedly, but he would over-ride the orders with reason. She was just a girl, scared and lost. She would agree to anything as long as it made her feel that they had a purpose.

"Just don't get yourself killed or you'll have to face the punishment." Haruhi pouted beneath her hood and Clarke managed a shaky laugh.

"Yes ma'am!" He twisted and swiftly snapped the cords connecting him to Yuki and Haruhi, tying the loose ends together in a tight knot. He leaned in and closed the knife.

"Try to stay here and keep in a group. Stay as warm as you can. I'm going to find help and I'll be back as soon as I can. Just wait for me, 'kay?" He gave one last energetic smile before turning and disappearing into the blizzard. The group of five huddled around a tree in a tight circle and listened to the wind whip at them with malice. Within seconds, Alistair Clarke was lost to the wilderness.

"I'm afraid we'll start to freeze if we stay here any longer!" Koizumi politely calls to the group. They all nod with a sense of dread. They had waited for an hour and Clarke hadn't returned. Had he gotten lost too? Haruhi ushers everyone to their feet and Nagato turns slowly, as if taking her bearings, before leading the way once more. The only thing that had changed since the beginning of the storm was the missing person. Haruhi shudders once again as she looks toward Nagato in the lead, as Nagato shows an expression that looks to be wondering whether or not she has taken the wrong path down the mountain somehow.

_Whatever_, Kyon began to dictate to his mind, _this matter will have to be left at that for now. This is not some wonderland._ _So long as we grasp our rough bearings, we should naturally reach the base of the mountain as we head downward along the slope. The problem is that we can't get to that point for some reason, talk about weird._

"We have no choice, let's dig a hole in the snow and set up camp. We'll keep going when the storm

dies down." Ready as always, Haruhi kneels and begins to shovel snow with her gloves, Mikuru timidly following suit with her mittens.

"Wait." Kyon called Haruhi off as he headed over to Nagato, who seemed to be brushing the snow aside too.

"Just what is going on Nagato? We're on a mountain with Haruhi and this storm comes out of nowhere just like that?" The young girl with a poker face, with her short hair stiffened from the freezing air, lifts her head slowly.

"An incomprehensible event has occurred." She quietly says. Those dark irises look at Kyon in earnest.

"If the dimensional coordinates that I recognize are correct, our current whereabouts should have exceeded the point of origin."

"What and what?" Once again, Nagato says something extremely important as if it's nothing special. "If that is so, shouldn't we have landed in the midst of human life by now?" _But even after all that walking_, he cursed his over-active brain, _we fail to run into the lift cables or even any cabin!_

"An event that is beyond the control of my dimensional manipulation abilities has occurred."

Hearing the chilling voice of Nagato, he takes a deep breath. Words vanish from the edge of his

mouth just as how a snowflake evaporates in an instant upon contacting the tip of the tongue.

Event beyond Nagato's abilities to control? Are the strange premonitions directed at this?

"Who could've done it this time around?" Nagato falls into silence, without blinking her eyes as the snowflakes dance wildly and blow straight at her.

In their haste to hit the slopes, the entire group neglected bringing a watch, besides Clarke, or even a phone, so keeping time accurately is out of the question. Koizumi only knew that they left the villa at approximately three o'clock in the afternoon. They had been out for a while, so it must have been around 5 o' clock now. No matter how hard and fast they clawed at the thick snow and ice, it wouldn't give way. The sky is nothing but a uniform grey. Not even the sun shone on them now. This all seemed vaguely familiar to Kyon. Could it be that –?

"Ah!" Haruhi suddenly exclaims. The whole group jumped to the point that their hearts were about to give up.

"Oi!" Kyon scorns like a panicked parent, "Don't go around scaring people like that! What are you doing shouting out of the blue like that for?"

"Kyon, look at that!" Haruhi points her fingertip, and utterly fearless over the strong winds-

A dim glow is ahead.

"What is that?"

Koizumi's height gives him the advantage and he peers through the snow. Due to the tempest, the glow fades in and out, but the source remains consistent. It is similar to the dim glows of the fireflies after they mate.

"That light's coming from a window!" Haruhi's tone is filled with a sense of exhilaration. "There must be a house over there! Let's go and take a look. We will freeze to death if we stay

any longer." Although... a house? Can there be a house in such a desolate place?

"Over here! Mikuru, Koizumi! Everyone, keep following me!" Haruhi becomes a human ploughing machine, and valiantly opens a path for us up front. Frigidity, anxiety and exhaustion make Mikuru's petite body tremble. Koizumi follows Haruhi while holding her, calling his analysis on the situation as the snow trembles before Haruhi.

"This is definitely an artificial light. However, I am very certain that there was no light coming from this direction before, since I have been monitoring the situation nearby."

"..."

Nagato, Kyon and Mikuru utter no word, as they stare at the back of Haruhi, who is using her skis to shovel the heavy powder away.

"Hurry up! Kyon, Yuki! Don't get left behind!" There remains no other alternative. Rather than having their frozen corpse becoming the news headline a century later, Kyon decides he would gamble on this seemingly slim chance of survival. Even if it's a trap set in advance, a thought more chilling than the snow and wind races through Kyon's mind as they plough endlessly to the light, we have no choice at this point.

"It's a mansion! And a big one..."


	2. The Salvation

Chapter 2

The Shelter

_Haruhi stopped in her footsteps, shot her head straight up, and after having expressed her thoughts, kept going, totally unfazed by the worrying analysis. I stare at the massive structure, and my darkened mood sinks some more. In a backdrop composed of the silvery white snow and the pencil grey sky, it stands like a house in a shadow play, making it all the more uninviting. It isn't so much that its appearance is not commonly seen. To call it a villa, well it stands as grand as a castle. Several towers of unknown purpose protrude from the roof, and though it could be due to inadequate lighting, they look very dark. To have such a structure within the snow mountain is the very definition of bizarre. If not, then all the dictionaries of the world should have to be rewritten with the new definition of the word. The location is a snow mountain clouded by a blizzard. The cast is us who are in distress. Finding a dim light while we are lost on the way, and stumbling upon a strange mansion after following that light –_

_Only one ingredient is left. Would what comes next be the appearance of the owner of the house, being even more peculiar than the mansion, or even some alien monster? Would the story head into suspense, mystery or horror?_

"Hello –" Haruhi quickly faces the wooden panel and projects her voice. The door had no intercom nor did it have a doorbell. Haruhi's fist knocks on the inelegant door.

"Is anyone there!" Koizumi gave the mansion another look, while standing behind Haruhi. He backed away very slowly and quietly so he was just within earshot of Kyon.

"It is not that I'm cynical, but this setting is just too well prepared, as if it was custom-made for us.

However, I am aware that this could be the work of Miss. Suzumiya wanting more excitement." His constant smile seemed to perk up at the corners. "What if this is Alistair's doing? Wouldn't it be great if he's created this space himself for us to get out of the cold?" He slowly shuffled forward and rejoins Haruhi, who didn't seem to notice his absence during her barrage on the door. Kyon turned to Nagato, who looked frozen, despite her face looking totally the same. The fur coat Clarke had bought for her must be keeping her warm, Kyon moaned in his mind.

"Hey Nagato, did Clarke make this?" Nagato's impossibly deep eyes slowly rose to his and she nodded slowly. That was it. If Nagato says it wasn't Clarke, it wasn't Clarke. She would never lie to Kyon, if she indeed decided to use her voice. Haruhi yells out with a booming voice comparable to this tempest,

"We're lost! Would you please let us rest inside? We are trapped in the snow and are about to

die!" Mikuru's face trembles a little at these discouraging words as she hugged her own body for warmth with, occasionally letting loose a cute sneeze and wiping her entirely red nose. Koizumi's signature smile has vanished. His arms were crossed like he was deep in thought, with his head cocked on an angle. His expression was as if he has tasted something bitter. He looks as the indecisive Hamlet might, pondering whether or not one should open the door. Haruhi's noise level is so high that, should she be doing this within Times Square, everyone would have to stop and cover their ears. The question is that there is no answer so far.

"Is nobody home?" Haruhi, with her gloves removed and blowing steam at her fists says resentfully.

"There are lights inside, so I thought there'd be people inside... Kyon, what's next?"

_I can't give you an answer just like that even if you ask for one. Only some hot-blooded hero that would do whatever comes into his head would rush headlong into this place shrouded by mystery._

"It'll do if we can find a place to use as shelter... is there a garage or a shack nearby?" _I twist this way and that, looking for some other building, but the snow is still relentless._ _As usual, Haruhi opted not for such distractions as trying to find shelter. She puts on her gloves before us, grabs onto the handle that has accumulated ice on it, and let's go of a breath that looks like a prayer. With a serious expression, she slowly turns the handle._ _Maybe I should stop her. At least, after hearing Nagato's advice, I should have some idea about_ _what's ahead. But it's too late now –_

– _it's as if the mansion is opening its mouth._

_The door is open._

_Artificial lighting lit up our faces._

"So it's unlocked. Would it kill them to get the door if somebody's in the house?" Haruhi stormed in at the lead as she unceremoniously dropped the skis and the poles off to the side on the wall.

"Anyone? Is there anyone here? Sorry for the intrusion!" Kyon sighed and followed suit. What else could he do but follow the chief? Koizumi, the last in, shut the door, and they give a collective sigh, finally able to bid a temporary farewell to the hours of cold and the piercing sounds of the gale.

"Hello! Is anyone there?" The boisterous shouts of Haruhi ring through the spacious, well lit entrance hall and sweep up the oak stairwell before them. The snow that had weighed them down in the violent outdoors soon turned to water and dripped loudly on the floor_._

_The heating must be on pretty high here. Strangely, there is nobody in the house. It should be about time that someone comes out to express how they are disrupted by Haruhi and sends her out of here, but there remains no reply to Haruhi's calls._

"Would this be a haunted house then?" Kyon mutters as he gazes around the hall, taking in the over-whelming grandeur. _If there were a coatroom nearby, I might mistakenly call it the ground floor of a hotel._

"I'll go take a look around." Haruhi announced, taking off without considering the consequences. The absence of a house owner got on Haruhi's nerves, making Koizumi's hair stand on end. She rid herself of the ski jacket as if shedding her skin and kicked her boots away.

"Can't worry so much since this is an emergency, but I wouldn't want to get grilled for trespassing on private property. I will go and see if anyone's here. All of you wait here." As expected of the chief, having made a statement befitting a leader. Just as Haruhi was about to take off, with only her socks on -

"Hold it." Kyon held her back by her hood, soaking his palm in the wet plastic.

"I'll go with you. God forbid if you go alone and do something totally out of line."

He threw his jacket and snow boots of in a hurry and he suddenly felt all the fatigue from the hours of trudging through snow lift.

"Koizumi, take care of Asahina and Nagato in the meantime." A contorted smile appeared on face of the esper, feeling slightly useless, and nods lightly. Kyon took one last look at the worried expression of Mikuru and glanced at Nagato, who is stood as still as ever.

"Let's go. This place is huge, the owners might be deep inside which is why they didn't hear you

roaring."

"When is it ever up to you to call the shots? In times like this only I give out the orders! Do as I

tell you to do!" The sharp-tongued Haruhi flaunted her power yet again without shame and turn back to the three on standby.

"We'll be back in no time. Koizumi, take care of the two of them."

"Understood." Koizumi replied to Haruhi with his everyday smile, and nodded his head to Kyon, who guessed they were thinking the same thing.

_To sum up my walk with Haruhi in one word: Painful. Every floor we climb in this deceptively huge building just brings Haruhi o another bellow and no one ever answers. After searching all of the floors, all twenty of them might I add, we decided to head back down, Haruhi sulking more than ever beside me._

"That was such a waste of time. Where is everybody?" Haruhi wasn't so much angry as she was confused. She didn't like being confused. She always was in control, she had to be. She was the Brigade Chief! They descended a stairwell and turned down the first floor hallway that divided the back portion of the house from the entrance hall, which ceiling took up both the ground and the first floor.

"Mikuru! What's up?" Haruhi took off at a jog to the central staircase and raced down the steps two at a time, and Kyon soon saw why; Koizumi looked more troubled than ever, standing I thought that rivalled an ancient chess player, while Mikuru had her head between her legs and wept weakly. They both jumped at the approaching voice and cheered up. Nagato was still standing by the door, being Nagato. As Haruhi fretted over Mikuru, Koizumi politely smiled to Kyon.

"Can I have a word with you for a moment? Miss. Suzumiya, there's a pantry through the western door there; just in case you're hungry." He called and pointed to an open arch to the left of the entrance. A long wooden table was poking just into view.

"Hey, I'm hungry too!" Kyon said grumpily, but Koizumi just shook his head, waiting for Haruhi to disappear around the corner.

"Exactly how long would you say you and miss. Suzumiya were gone?"

"Um, about ten minutes? Why?" Koizumi's lips pursed a little.

"Then it is as I predicted. To myself, Miss. Nagato and Miss. Asahina, you have both been gone for well over an hour." Time stopped for Kyon and his heart skipped a beat.

"Wh- What? Koizumi nodded and began to explain with his usual grand hand gestures.

"I predicted something was wrong when we first entered the house. It just didn't feel right. So, when you and Miss. Suzumiya had been gone for around thirty minutes, I decided to conduct an experiment. I sent miss. Nagato into the dining hall where we couldn't see her and wait for ten minutes exactly, then come back in. Before Miss. Asahina and I had even reached two minutes, she came back in and nodded. Though I don't doubt her abilities for a second, I can't help but think that the low of time is somehow... distorted in this house. Different areas run at different speeds." Before he could go into any more detail, Haruhi's head poked around the corner of the arch.

"You guys still standing there? Come one, Mikuru and me have made diner for everyone!" She disappeared and we entered the room where a huge buffet had been prepared and laid out.

"Sorry it took so long! Dig in!" Haruhi announced before shovelling food into her mouth in a rather childish fashion. Koizumi caught Kyon's eye and gave a little nod and tapped his wrist before picking up his knife and fork and beginning his meal in a fashion that would humble Clarke.

_Just what's going on here? This is bad, we need o leave as soon as the storm dies. And if he's not here, where's Clarke?_


	3. The Revelation

Chapter 3

The Revelation

Kyon suddenly jerked back, a force holding him in place. As the other members of the SOS Brigade disappeared down the halls, Nagato pinched Kyon's sleeve. She almost looked sad.

"Oh, Nagato. What's up?" The last time she did this, it was to drop the bomb that she was an alien. It must be something important for her stop him and pull him away from everybody else. She turned slightly and looked over her shoulder, a clear sign for 'follow.' She led the way around the eastern wing of the building and slowly north. The building was deceptively huge. Every window displayed the same blizzard, like a TV stuck on one channel. Kyon didn't notice it at first and assumed it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but the wall paper began to yellow and peel the further they walked. They turned a corner and it looked as if someone had set a bear loose; the wall paper was slashed and torn with claw marks and doors lay in broken splinters. Yuki walked on without a word or reaction, had she been here before? Kyon cautiously peered into each of the rooms until the corridor split once again. It turned left sharply without any other way to go, leading to a well-concealed door. There were no other doors, so the room that door led into must span a large distance. Kyon bumped into the suddenly stational Nagato, who was waiting at the door with her hand on the handle. Kyon nodded and took a deep breath as Nagato opened the door and lead the way.

It was dark, but there was a pale illumination coming from the far end of the room. Monitors, a dozen of them all directed at one empty chair. The room stank of decay and iron and the temperature was the polar opposite of outside. It was only when Yuki snapped on the lights and pointed did Kyon see what he was brought here for. So that's where the smell of iron was coming from. All over the walls, someone had scrawled messages in blood. 'RUN' was imprinted on the ceiling and 'GET OUT NOW' was directly before Kyon's face.

"Nagato, what is this?" Kyon asked, short of breath suddenly. That was an understatement. He hadn't breathed since the lights went on. Yuki sat herself in the chair before the screens and began rapidly hammering the keyboard, unaffected by the horrific omens on the wall. Kyon leaned on the chair and watched as still images flashed onto the screens and his breath hitched once again. From twelve screens, Alistair Clarke stared down at him.

"What? He's here?" Nagato hit a button and the first screen flickered to life. There was a rustle and as the camera was rolled and the operator focused the camera on the entrance hall.

"Okay, this is weird. Hi, this is Alistair Clarke of the SOS Brigade. I've found this house that I'm positive wasn't here before. I'll have to go back and find the others, maybe I can find the owner when I get back. Okay, I'm off and-" Clarke grunted as his shoulder hit the door without effect.

"What the-" He pointed the camera at the door. At the totally flat door.

"Where's the handle gone?" He yelled, slamming his boot into the door with the force of a freight train full of anvils. It didn't give. Over and over, he grunted as the sturdy snow boot did nothing but smear snow onto the polished wood.

"What the fuck is going on here? Where's the bloody handle gone?" He stopped struggling to dislodge the door and pointed the camera towards his somewhat panicked face.

"Okay, to all whom this makes sense to: This space is generated by another source and clearly doesn't want me to leave. I have lost contact on my cell. I'm going to have a look around for the owner and see what's going on. I will be keeping a diary of my findings, just I case." The video cut off.

"What did he mean, 'I've lost contact on my cell?'"

"It is a code word to only be used in an emergency." Yuki spoke up for the first time in a while in her soft monotone. "He, like I, have lost all connection with the Thought Integration Entity."

"So, can you tell if Clarke's still here or not?" Another screen flickered to life.

"Okay," Clarke panted heavily, "I've been here for three days now and my tests have been conclusive: the flow of time is dependent on the space you are occupying. For all I know, I could have been here thirty seconds or thirty years to the outside. All I can do now is hope that I am found soon, as no one is in the house and there is no way for me to leave without help from the outside." He walked along a hall and descended the stairs into the entrance hall. He walked to the table that Nagato had stopped him beside and picked up a brown... something.

"This is a banana skin. By my count, it has been here no less than thirty seconds since I placed it here and left the room, yet it has already started to decompose." After another jog upstairs, he came to one of the rooms. On the bed side table was another, yellow banana skin.

"I placed this one here 33 hours ago, yet it appears to be just the same as when I left it. I'm not sure who created this space but," He stopped jogging through the halls and sighed, "Its pushing me to some pretty extreme limits. My body is being taxed and I don't have a way to stop it. Well, until next time, I suppose." The static barely had time to start before another Clarke began talking. He was panicked, camera pointed at himself as his eyes darted around him.

"Okay, it's been two months and 27 days since I arrived here. No help has arrived as of yet and I'm beginning to doubt it ever will." He rubbed the sweat that soaked his face away and brushed his greasy hair from his eyes. "It's getting harder and harder to perform even the simplest physical task but I have managed to find a room on the first floor and have made it my own. There was plenty of surveillance equipment in there, so I'm going to start archiving these messages in case someone else ends up here. The kitchen has seen heavy use by me but it never runs dry! The food just keeps on appearing every time my back is turned! I'm not sure how much longer I can last here, though. It's so hard to even exist here. I just-" He suddenly gasped and dropped his camera. His eyes dilated and he stumbled around for a moment, his balance gone. He clenched his teeth hard and suddenly relaxed. He looked around and in awe and fear, which was very unfitting of Clarke, and dived to the ground.

"Okay, its official, another data life form has intentionally trapped me in this space but doesn't seem to want me dead, just weak. A series of signals tried to override my systems, but I can't track them." He looked around him one more time before staring into the lens. "Okay, that's it. If you ever find this video tape, whoever you are, run. Do not look for me. Do not look for any owners of the house, just turn back to the door and get out. If you find a way, try and leave a message for others. Instruct them on how to be free." He closed his eyes and calmed down.

"Okay, I'm going to go and find the source of that transmission. Yuki, if you ever find this, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"It's just coming out of nowhere-"

"The walls are bleeding with data! It won't stop changing the atmosphere!"

"The halls are changing! The rooms are never in a set position!"

"There is someone else here! Arm yourself and run for the door! Get out now!" Screens started to scream in panic at Kyon. All over the array of screens, an increasingly dishevelled and scared Clarke would bark his findings and fears to them. Was he losing it? All of the screens went silent and one in particular switched to the central screen. It was a shot of the entrance hall with Clarke standing and staring at the camera. His jacket was long gone and his shirt was battered and torn in some places. He waved to the camera and yelled,

"Okay, I've managed to rig the camera to the ceiling of the first hall you will enter and the feed is archiving straight to files in my room. This is Alistair Clarke again. I have been here for a year now and the attacks haven't stopped. My body won't hold for much longer, so I will be an example of how much you need to escape right now! This entity wants me, to control me, so I hope that whoever finds this will find a way to destroy me. Haruhi, I'm sorry, my leader. I've failed you. Itsuki, I'll let this victory go to you. Mikuru, I wish you all the best in keeping time the same. Kyon, stay strong. Yuki..." A tear rolled onto his cheek. It was even visible from the ceiling. "I love you." Yuki hit a button and the video began to fast forward. Clarke darted around the room, spending long periods of time in the same place and other times pacing endlessly between points. Every now and then, he would drop to his knees and shake, but would slowly regain and continue his pacing. They sat there for a while, watching months flash by. The video paused and Clarke had gone into a frenzy, hurling chairs against the window and tossing his head around.

"-WILL NOT DIE! YOU HEAR ME! I WON'T DIE HERE!" He charged the door with the force of a satellite falling from space to no affect and landed hard on the floor. "I won't be taken! You hear me? You'll never claim me! I'll survive this!" He began to pant and whispered weakly. "I have to." The video picked up again as Kyon covered his mouth in shock. He watched the 'Days' counter tick up to thirty as Clarke sat in a corner on the far side of the room, still as a statue. Time resumed and Clarke twitched on the floor. His wild, tired eyes shot up in fear as him arm began to lift and his fingers flex.

"No." He breathed. "NO!" He stood and held his wrist firmly, but his arm continued to move and twist like a snake awakening from a long sleep. Alistair swung, his arm having a mind of its own, and faced the wall. He screamed his love's name and slammed his skull off the wall with a sickening crunch, making Kyon recoil as his blood spilled from a crack in his forehead. In a total frenzy, he pummelled at the neat wallpaper and covered his clothes in blood. He fell backwards, panting, and very much alive. He looked to the camera and Kyon didn't see an unrecognisable mess. He saw Alistair's energetic face, clean of blood and injuries. He didn't die. He couldn't. He looked at his right hand, the one he still has some control over, and mopped his face. No blood graced the pale skin.

At that moment, preserved on film, whatever remained of that energetic glimmer in Alistair Clarke's eyes finally went out. His shoulders slumped and he moved his legs awkwardly, like a rusty puppet. Kyon was in shock and couldn't comprehend what was going on, but silent Yuki did. Clarke was gone. The body that was moving to the blind spot of the camera slowly was a husk, a vessel for whatever entity had created this space. It had won. Alistair was gone. The camera shuddered and fell, landing in the waiting hand two floors below. The emotionless husk looked into the camera before crushing it to dust in its hand, ending the counter at '207 yrs, 08 months, 24 days, 16 secs.' The room went to a dull grey and crackled with static.


	4. The Gears In Motion

Chapter 4

The Gears In Motion

Kyon's head pounded and roared with blood as it rushed around his head. What was going on here? Where was Clarke?

"Nagato, where is he? Can you tell? What happened to him?" He started to spin on the spot, panicked, staring at the messages. His mind flashed back to the alternate universe, to how peaceful the computer text and book mark messages that Nagato had left him. Why didn't Clarke leave something like that? Why was an impossible order written in hardened brown blood across every wall around? Lying against the wall were several large bins full of tapes, discs and old records.

"Clarke!" Kyon yelled into the pile, shifting the mass of plastic, praying that he would wake up. He dug through all of the bins, calling the alien's name. He was nowhere to be found.

"Alistair Clarke has been corrupted by a foreign source. I cannot pin-point his or the offending source to any location."

"So you're saying he's hiding from this thing that wants him?" Nagato didn't answer for a few moments. A Kyon's heart still pounded loudly against his ribs, he couldn't help but notice Nagato's eyes started to drift close slightly.

"I do not know." Those words and Nagato's tired face would haunt Kyon until his dying breath. "This space is causing considerable stress to my body. The source is data-based and is now affecting me." Kyon shook his head, turning to look back up at the screens, to Alistair's face, steadily on the rise to insanity and fear as the monitors went on.

"We have to get out Nagato, you got that? We have to get the others and leave right now, just like Clarke said, right?" She didn't answer. "Nagato! Right! You can help us get out of this-" The small girl slumped in her seat suddenly, her breath like a tiny gust of wind. Kyon's heart thought it would be nice to take a vacation for a few moments as he stared at the slumping figure. Nagato twitched slightly, her chest barely moving. It took her a moment, but her eyes slowly opened.

"This space is causing heavy stress on my body. It is... difficult to maintain optimum efficiency." Kyon looked into her endless eyes. They looked drained and her skin had started to gleam with a fine gloss of sweat. Kyon felt not only scared, but painfully exposed. The hair on his neck began to prick up as he cast a look behind him. Same old walls. Same old horrific omens of death and pain. He picked up Nagato's tiny body and felt the smallest breaths still circulating. He hooked the door open with his foot and started to run, trying desperately not to notice the sliced wallpaper and broken doors. He rounded the corner to see Mikuru enter one of the bedrooms.

"Miss. Asahina! Miss. Asahina, wait!" Mikuru's heavenly smile drifted back into view for a single second before it dissolved into shock. She covered her mouth and checked the door.

"Um, I'll just be a few minutes." She mumbled through the door with a forced smile. She closed it and timidly ran towards them, Kyon still not struggling with his burden.

"You- What- How-"

"Miss. Asahina, from now on, I want you to stay with me, okay? Don't go anywhere where I can't see you, got it?" Mikuru's eyes kept on darting from Kyon down to Yuki's flickering eyes.

"Kyon, you're scaring me. What happened to Miss. Nagato?" Kyon walked on past her and opened the door, where Koizumi jumped as the door hit him in the back.

"Oh, how did you get there? I didn't see you behind-" His smile strained like a flag pole in the wind. "Oh my, what happened to Miss. Nagato?" Kyon set her down on the bed, Haruhi rushing up to her. She pressed her hand to Yuki's head, feeling it burn.

"What the hell, Kyon?" She suddenly rounded on him. Kyon was speechless.

"What?"

"How and why is Yuki in a state like this? How come she's so ill?" Kyon was in awe of her narrow mind.

"That doesn't make any sense! I can't help it if Nagato gets sick!" Haruhi pouted and folded her arms.

"Well, I suppose so. But as a punishment, you have to go find some medication for her. There'll be some in the bathrooms." She said with certainty. Kyon didn't protest, stealthily tugging on Koizumi's sleeve as he turned. He closed the door behind him, which opened again the moment his hand left the brass. Koizumi exited the door with a surprised look.

"Have you been waiting out here for me all this time?" He gauged Kyon's reaction. "Oh, right. This time warping is becoming something of a hassle. Anyway, what did you want to show me?"

Kyon didn't dare watch the screens, not again. He was even tempted to block out his ears, instead opting to stand by the door and gaze past the hall. The lights still glowed a calm, bright yellow, making the aged wallpaper seem all the older. The constant gale outside cast darting shadows over the walls. _He was here_, Kyon thought to himself as he surveyed the destruction. _He tore that paper off the walls. He broke everyone of those doors down. Alistair, were you trying to get out? Were you trying to find someone or were you just scared and alone here?_

"This is very, very bad." Koizumi didn't even try to smile. His face was sombre, even worried. "We can only assume that Clarke is still in this house and, from what we've seen, dangerous." He left the room at a smart pace, not hesitating to leave the disgusting room. "We should keep a constant watch on each other at all times, even if that means sleeping in the same room. We can't allow ourselves to be singled out if whatever is now controlling Clarke wants one of us too."

"But, it attacked Clarke and Nagato's not feeling well. Isn't it reasonable to assume it can only attack aliens?" As they reached the wide landing, Koizumi gazed longingly at the door. He slowly descended the staircase, his hand sliding along the polished banister.

"I don't think we should rule out any possibility. If we start letting our guard down, we leave ourselves open for attack." He sighed as he came to the door, brushing it with his hand, wishing something would happen, an escape to appear. "There is also the case of Miss. Suzumiya. I don't know if she can create Closed Space inside of this space but I don't really want to try." He managed to put on a braze face and turn to Kyon. "But whatever the case, I'll leave it up to you. You always seem to leads us out right, so whatever you choose to, I'll support you, deal?" Koizumi smiled in earnest, making Kyon feel even worse.

"Hey wait a sec here, you're just dumping all of the-" The familiar pounding of his heart returned as Koizumi's jaw hung and his eyes widened in horror as he stared over Kyon's shoulder. Kyon spun.


	5. The Hunt Is On

Chapter 5

The Hunt Is On

Kyon's back popped with the incredible speed that he spun at. He searched the banister, the staircase, the entire room. The empty room. He turned back to Koizumi, who was still looking bewildered.

"What the hell, Koizumi? Don't make me panic like that!" He didn't respond for a moment, swallowing hard and plastering a frankly painful smile on his jaw.

"I- I must be imagining things. I thought I... Never mind, I'm too tired for this." He rubbed his eyes. "We're going to have to figure out the sleeping arrangements with the girls. We're gonna need to sleep soon." He led the way up the stairs but stopped suddenly, nearly sending Kyon tumbling back down. Kyon was about to yell again, but Koizumi was in a world of his own. He stared of down the western hall, his eyes slowly roaming. He sighed and shook his head again in time to meet Haruhi stomping out of the door, tossing a jacket around.

"Kyon, is this yours?" She threw the jacket at him in a bundle. "You know, you should really take care of your stuff. How did it get like that?" Kyon slowly turned the dusty, torn material in his hands. His fingers traced the remaining tufts of artificial fur that still clung the thick hood. The hood that Kyon frequently had to check to make sure they were still on the ski slopes. The hood that 'valiantly led the charge,' as the owner put it, through the rapidly rising gale.

"Oh, my coat. I guess I'll have to..." His voice abandoned him as he stood in the hall, Haruhi giving him an odd look.

"Well, you better go give Yuki her medicine. I'm gonna go and see if there's anything to do around here, the storm's not going away any time soon." She casually strolled off, Koizumi giving Kyon a serious nod.

"Miss. Suzumiya, allow me to accompany you." He hurried after her as she headed down the eastern corridor and up to the second floor. Without any medicine of any sort for the girl, Kyon walked through the door with Mikuru in tow. Yuki looked like a sleeping princess in the beside lamplight, her skin glistening with grease. Each breath made her body tremble, as if she were trying to sit up, trying to move. Kyon's heart nearly came out of his mouth as a thousand cannons boomed in unison outside the door whilst the wooden panel shook on its joints, barely staying together. As quickly as it had come, the symphony of noise was gone and the door was peaceful again. Nobody moved, nobody made a sound. Mikuru made a half-hearted attempt to stop Kyon from approaching the door, but he had to see what was out there. Time seemed slower in the rooms, which means that whoever was outside had to have been there for a few minute at least. He suddenly felt very sick when he remembered that Koizumi and Haruhi were out there. He took a deep breath and prepared to face whatever horrific sight he was about to uncover. He summoned all his strength, hurled the door open and-

Wall.

Kyon cautiously looked up and down the hall; nothing was there. Then Kyon realised it. His head started to swim as he stared at the wall ahead of him. The wall that was in front of him, two more rooms on his diagonals when they were in the room in the centre of the row. When Kyon opened the door, he should have been looking south down the steps and into the entrance hall, so how and why were they at least seven rooms down? He blinked and rubbed his eyes again before checking the halls. They had definitely moved. And what was that noise?

"Kyon!" Thor bellowed into his ear, making him recoil and slam his head off the door. Haruhi glared. "Why did you move down here? What if Yuki got even more sick if you moved her?" Haruhi stormed past and started to fret over Mikuru, who was still on the floor, covering her mouth. Kyon looked back to Koizumi, hoping for an answer to the strange shift, but the taller brunette was giving him an extremely odd look. He was staring with his hand outstretched and was making to conduct a orchestra in front of him. He suddenly noticed Kyon staring and stealthily beckoned him over.

"Do I look different to you?" He asked in a serious murmur. Kyon shook his head. Koizumi grunted and grabbed his shoulders, rotating them so Kyon was outside of the room and Koizumi was inside. "What about now?" It took Kyon a second to nail, but something was very odd about the room before him; it was if a tiny heat haze was making the lines of the room before him wave like an underwater plant. He stepped back inside and faced outward; the hall was normal. With Haruhi busy teasing Mikuru, Kyon and Koizumi ducked in and out of the door, analysing the strange optical illusion.

"It almost looks like someone had spread a thin sheet of airborne grease in the doorway." Mused Koizumi to himself quietly before turning to Kyon directly. "Have you noticed the other thing?" Kyon didn't reply. "We have been going in and out of the doorway for some time, occupying two separate spaces at the same time, yet time hasn't distorted, which means that, as long as we are observing a different space, time isn't affected within them." Kyon took a moment to consider the concept before remembering why Mikuru continued to whimper in the first place.

"Hey, were you banging on the door a while ago? Like, before you found us here?" Kyon's stomach tightened a little when Koizumi slowly shook his head.

"Miss. Suzumiya and I have been wandering the house this entire time and we haven't seen a soul. Though I did see something from a distance that I think you'll find very interesting." He pointed down the western hall, Kyon following his finger. There, just about peaking around the corner was a smudge of black on the wall. After reporting to Haruhi like the good little suck-up he was, Koizumi led the way and pointed at it with an air of smugness.

"It seems Alistair was busy for a time." He commented as Kyon gaped, "Algebra. He was calculating something." The western hall didn't proceed further north, but went down south to a solitary door, a mirror of the upstairs security centre that stank of blood and death. All down the blank wall, the howling snow outside cast the same bizarre shadows as the one upstairs, but this hall wasn't clawed to ribbons; it was covered in endless streams of calculations that made no sense to Kyon whatsoever. Koizumi took a slow walk and observed it all whilst Kyon kept an eye on Haruhi's open door. Koizumi kneeled and inspected the skirting board beside the door on the far side of the hall, where the streams of tiny calculation pooled into one column of coded numbers. He jogged back to Kyon with his worrying analysis and walked him down the workings.

"There's no doubt about it; only a super-genius could make those kinds of calculations. There are methods included in there that I've never seen before. I'm not even sure if they're human. It all ends with one set of numbers on the far end, though I have no idea what they stand for."

_Clarke, you knew something. You figured something out. Did you use it? Was that your escape plan? Why didn't you leave us any signs or hints? _Kyon scorned himself, what was he thinking? Clarke was scared and alone, he did his best. A hand suddenly clamped over Kyon's mouth, nearly tumbling him. As he thrashed for freedom, he opened his eyes long enough to see Koizumi trying desperately to silence him. He slowly took his hand away and put his fingers to his lips before pointing to the ceiling. All was silent, before-

Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound was agonisingly slow, but definite.

"Footsteps." Breathed Koizumi. Kyon could feel the heart beat as they started the run for the open door.


	6. The Trap Is Set

The boys raced to the door and slammed it behind them, making Haruhi scowl as they doubled over and panted heavily. They went silent for a few seconds, keeping their breaths as quiet as possible as they listened, but part of them knew it was futile; whoever was in the house moved faster than they would be able to hear. Sadly, the movements weren't fast and without a sound passed the door. The symphony of cannons rumbled once more, making everyone in the room scream. As Mikuru was the only one to fully turn away from the quaking wood, she was the only one to see the few beads of sweat rapidly materialise on Yuki's forehead. Haruhi threw out her chest and bellowed at the door,

"Who's there? Go away!" Her voice quivered noticeably, despite her trying to sound as brave as possible. Koizumi spun and searched the room for a weapon, snatching up the beside lamp and edging closer to the door. Despite being scared out of their minds, the boys knew what they had to do, even if it meant their lives. Koizumi counted to himself, trying to disguise a small prayer, and flung the door open, lunging with all his strength-

Wall.

His head darted to the east, then to the west-

"There!" He cried, a foot disappearing into a doorway. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Kyon darted forwards, ready to attack with the force of a tiger when he opened the door. He kicked the door down and came face to face with a bed, lamp, wall. Nothing else. Koizumi followed him in and cautiously looked around in utter confusion. There were no en suite bathrooms or air vents in the rooms, nor were the window sills large enough to hide behind a curtain. Koizumi even checked under the bed to no avail. He got up and scratched his head.

"This isn't good. Could it be possible that whoever we just saw has some kind of super natural ability that we haven't realised?" Koizumi rubbed his tired eyes, his body starting to slump from the constant extremes of calm and panic. "We need sleep, right now." He started to lead the way back to the rooms with Kyon in silent tow. "It's strange; by the sounds that we heard, it seems clear that someone was trying to enter the room for at least a few minutes, and judging by the amount of noise it was making, a large amount of force was being put on the door-" Koizumi suddenly gasped as his fingertips touched the wooden door of the girl's room. He turned to Kyon, the corners of his mouth slowly turning upwards f the first time in many hours due to a sudden realisation.

"It was Miss. Nagato." he explained simply, his smile growing and perking Kyon's interest. "No wonder this strange pane has been over the door, it must be Miss. Nagato's force field. She's keeping us safe even though she's not fully with us." Kyon made a mental note to hug Yuki the next time she could appreciate it, though he somehow doubted that she would even register its intent. They strolled into the room as casually as they could and slowly worked the idea that a sudden gust of wind had blown through the house and rattled the doors. With the combination of quick-thinking and drowsiness, Haruhi eventually came to accept the fact and drifted off to sleep, lounging with her arms and legs ensnaring Mikuru's in a rather creepy way, her teeth gently clasping the younger girl's ear.

"At least she's happy." Koizumi shook his head as he balled up his jacket and slowly gave in to the sleep he had longed for. Kyon sat there in the dark silence, listening to the quiet house. One part of him was desperate to stay awake whilst another soothed him; the side that was largely dominated by the quiet alien girl and her ability to watch over them in almost every situation. Slowly, Kyon too drifted off to sleep, counting his lavender-haired blessings.

Clarke's POV

My aged heart trembled with terrible excitement; they had been right behind me, mere feet away.

"That's right, they were." an annoyed voice rang in my head. My body started to tremble as she spoke in the deepest recesses of my mind. "Two keys to this puzzle were right behind you. We could have finished there and then, but what did you choose to do, Alistair?" My teeth chatter together as I summon my strength for speech.

"I said no. Don't you get it? I won't just lie down and die for you. Not ever." Just as I predicted, she gave a soft chuckle.

"Well, it seems we've reached this point once more, eh Alistair? You should know by now the consequences for disobeying." I no longer felt the fear that used to take over me when my body acted of its own accord. I felt no fear when the hand prepared the notched knife that I was forced to keep by my side. "Believe me," she crooned to me as my left palm came to rest on the tip, "This hurts me just as much as it hurts you. Well, maybe not, but you know what I mean." With a sickly giggle, I watched as the knife sunk through skin, flesh, cartilage and bone as if it were paper. Though my body remained silent, I screamed in agony in my head. My eyes started to roll into my skull with the slow twist of the blade, forcing my bones to push apart and ripping my insides up. She let the metal linger there for a few moments before retracting the blade. My mind was on fire, nearly snapping and warping through the pain, but I would not break. Not now. It was crucial.

"Oh, but I've broke you before." she reminded through the pain. "And if you continue to disobey at such an important time, I'll do it again."

"Go on then." I dared her, trying to ignore my mangled hand. "Do it. Smash up my body, see if you can move me like that." She giggled again as my face twisted in agony as my insides writhed and repaired, seeking out the other end of each artery, fusing the marrow back together. After a minute of mind-altering pain, I was repaired. As best as I could manage.

"Oh, Alistair, you're so funny. Why Miss. Nagato hasn't been drawn to that pathetic magnetism of yours, I'll never know." I wanted to destroy her for speaking out against Yuki. How dare she even speak her name? But I couldn't focus on that now; I had to keep them safe. "Well, it's time to go. Come on." My pride had long gone under this type of treatment, so I just let my body be taken and moved, responding to her every command like some mongrel pup. After that punishment, it's going take a considerable amount of time to be ready to sabotage her control. I'd gotten good at that. All it took was some precise timing and some prepared signals and I was my own again. But now I was on the seventh floor, making my way east and padding down the stairs. I, she, stopped on the fourth and checked my watch. The glass had long since smashed and the second hand was the only thing functioning, and that only ticked once every 3.423 seconds. I walked down to the thirteenth room, careful not to touch the door. I waited for three ticks, closed my eyes, darted in and slammed the door.

One tick, two ticks, three ticks- Now! I dived out of the room, occupying the hall outside the security room on the second floor. I closed the door and made my way down the hall.

"Oh, look what you did to my wallpaper." My neck twisted to look at my equation. That had taken me all of twenty minutes to write out, but I was proud of it nonetheless. But something troubled me, why hadn't they worked it out yet? Surely the formula was easy to-

"I'm going to go find some breakfast." my leader called from just around the corner. "Mikuru, let's go! I wanna see if the owner of this place had a wardrobe for the maids!" After a little squealing, the voices of Miss. Suzumiya and Miss. Asahina disappeared into the entrance hall and right below me into the kitchen. A horrible possibility sparked into life in my mind, and I instantly wish it hadn't, for my thoughts were hers, and hers were pure malice.

"Oh, that's good." she complimented. "No wonder you were the foreman. Thanks!" Damnit, this isn't good. I swiftly made my way past Nagato's room without a sound and entered the eastern wing common room. To think, Haruhi and Mikuru would easily see me if only they were setting the table. As I rifled through the clothes and checked their styles with precision, I wondered, would that be a good thing? I found what I was looking for, grabbed thread, needles and fabric scissors from the various draws that had been tucked away in the common room's back and made my way back upstairs. After a little organising, I set to work with the lubrication oil, scissors and thread and created a creation that I would usually have been proud of. That was, if it wasn't a tool for deception and murder. She walked me over to the mirror and twirled me like a toy.

"Very nice, very sharp." she commented. "Let's go, the girls will be drooling all over you! This will be easy!" I couldn't resist, I was still so tired. Damnit, why weren't they running away? Why hadn't they arrived yet? She giggled again as she flexed my arms and limbered me up for my role.

"Oh Alistair, you think that they'll be able to work it out?" Asakura gave another laugh before leading me on my way, ready to embrace our audience. "They're only human!"


	7. The Bait Is Taken

I wanna throw out a quick apology for the last chapter. The scenes didn't flow as I had intended and didn't make much sense, mainly because what I was reading and seeing in my head wasn't what was actually in print on the screen. Oh well, I'll make it up to you here. Less drama, more words and more laid-back for you here, more of a setup. After this, the games will _really _ begin! If you enjoyed this chapter and the story so far, please leave a review :3 Hope you got everything you wanted for Christmas!

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><p>Haruhi sighed, watching the gale out of the kitchen window.<p>

"Damn it," she moaned as Mikuru busied herself with the kettle, "We're gonna waste our whole break stuck in here if this storm doesn't let up." Mikuru didn't have any words of encouragement, so she just stayed silent. In truth, the time traveller was terrified. The boys were constantly on their toes for reasons she didn't understand and she wasn't sure she wanted to understand. Alistair had gone missing in the snow, she kept on hearing things moving in the house and she had lost contact with her superiors. But what was worse of all was the fact that, when an event as large as this and if it involves anything to do with time distortion, she would be informed of the correct course of action, but no one breathed a word to her. If only she could pluck up the courage to ask Miss. Nagato before anything happened to her, she could signal for help or ask her superiors for instructions. But they were alone here, and that posed more than a problem. She cautiously glanced over her shoulder and found Haruhi still staring out of the window. Good, not causing trouble. Mikuru didn't have instructions, but she did have common sense. The boys and Nagato would help them find a way out, they always did. The least Mikuru could do was keep Miss. Suzumiya safe.

"Mikuru, what song's that?" Haruhi suddenly blurted out, Mikuru nearly sending the tea flying.

"Um, what song? I don't hear anything." Haruhi cocked her head and stared for a few seconds.

"Weren't you just tapping out a rhythm?" Mikuru slowly shook her head, straining her ears to hear. She slowly got to understand what Haruhi was talking about over the whistling kettle; there was a gentle rapping and an occasional thump of bass coming from the entrance hall. Haruhi poked her head around the corner of the kitchen and looked down the dining table,

"Kyon- ARGH!" she recoiled and screamed, backing into the kitchen and arming herself with a pan. "Mikuru, stay behind me!" she commanded, causing the younger girl to tear up and clasp her shirt tight.

"Wer ist da? Sag mir, jetzt! Schnell, sag mir!" bellowed back a voice from the end of the dining hall, but Haruhi held her ground, her hands squeaking as she gripped the plastic handle tighter.

"Sag mir!" called the voice again, but it hadn't got any closer. Haruhi hadn't made a move either. In fact, she seemed to relax a little.

"Hey, who are you?" she called gently with a hint of confusion. Mikuru slowly peeked out from the Brigade leader's shoulders and saw a figure wildly swinging a cane around at random. As Haruhi spoke up, he froze and his head shot over to their direction. It was a young man.

"It you!" he snarled, his head not quite looking the right way, "Are you here to steal more from me? Well, I won't let you!" He lifted his cane and started to run, but he didn't seem to notice the chair that was directly in front of him. He cursed in another language and rubbed his knee. Haruhi gently lay the heavy pan on the table and held up her arms in surrender, but the man didn't seem to take notice.

"Hey, are you okay?" she cooed again, taking a step towards him. Again, he seemed to look at her but wasn't quite looking in the right direction.

"I do not need your pity, thief!" he spat as he brought his cane before him and started to tap the floor as he curled his fist at the ready. Haruhi waved in front of him soundless and finally noticed the small, circular black glasses that covered is eyes. He was blind.

"Hey, look, mister," she began shakily, making him jump when he realised that she was so close, "We're not here to steal anything. We got here yesterday afternoon because we got lost in the storm. We're very sorry for-"

"Warten Sie." he suddenly interrupted, holding out his hand. He spoke softly and seemed calmer, "So you are not the von who came here last week?" Haruhi said no, making him turn thoughtful for a few moments. "A storm, you say? I thought I could hear something." His head twisted to the long windows that cast the flickering gray haze over the dining table. "Well, you won't be able to brave the storm until it dies down. Was ist your name, young lady?" he asked, adjusting his glasses on his thin, crooked nose. She took his hand and shook it firmly.

"I'm Haruhi Suzumiya, leader of the SOS Brigade." she said confidently.

"Charmed. I am Herr. Friedrich Gruler. Mein vater owns this house." He held out his other hand underneath Haruhi's chin. "May I?" Not to be discouraged or disheartened by anything unusual, Haruhi agreed. Friedrich set his cane against the table and gently raised his hands to the shorter Haruhi's neck his fingers bumped clumsily against her soft skin, but once he found his place, his nimble fingers began to gently trace Haruhi's face with expert precision. As he learned her, he started talking again in his thick, charming accent.

"You said your name was Suzumiya? Das ist Japanese, isn't it? You wouldn't be here to visit Fräulein. Tsuruya?"

"That's right." she replied through a nearly-closed mouth, careful not to knock the fingers that traced the bridge of her nose. "She's a friend of ours from school. Hey," something triggered in her head, "Did you say that you were robbed?" Friedrich sighed and took away his hands, fumbling for his cane.

"Yes. A young man broke into our home. Mein vater ist old and easily scared. We live alone and he has to care for me by himself, so he didn't know how to react to a thief. I didn't know what was going on and mien vater was panicking. The thief soon left and mien vater took me upstairs. He gave me food and told me to stay there, so that ist what I did. I had been up there for a few days, so I decided to come down. Mien vater still hasn't returned." Friedrich sighed almost longingly before finishing his inspection by giving her cheek an almost loving caress and flashing her a smile that soothed the soul to look on. "Mein eyes may not work, but I do not need them to see that you are exceedingly beautiful." The great Haruhi Suzumiya was left speechless. No words that made sense came to mind, but he luckily couldn't see her gawking. That was when she noticed his hand; it was soft, warm, comforting. "You are welcome to stay in my home until the storm dies down." Despite the fact that he couldn't see her gesture, Haruhi bowed in thanks.

"Thank you. We'll make sure to take care of your beautiful home." He bowed his head.

"Danke, Fräulein. Suzumiya- Did you say 'we?'" He turned his head and sniffed the air like a wolf searching for his prey. He snapped out his arm and aimed his cane at Mikuru, who cowered away in surprise.

"You know, I'm surprised I didn't notice that girl in the corner before." He sniffed the air a few more times and cocked his head. It was a mixed look between sampling a fine wine and playing a parlour game. "Fräulein. Suzumiya, how many other people are in my home?"

"Three, why?" Friedrich gave a snarl of a grin.

"And who ist the girl in the corner?"

"Oh, that's Mikuru." Haruhi dragged her up to the young man, hoping that he would start touching her and make her squeal. "It's a shame you can't see her, she's a little cutie pie!" Friedrich held out his hand and Mikuru timidly guided him to her face. Friedrich traced the gentle curves of her face and hovered over her trembling lips. He chuckled,

"You are worried. You already know vhat I'm going to say, don't you?" Mikuru started to splutter and blush, but those pale fingers kept a gentle, yet firm, hold.

"I knew you were there from the perfume that you're wearing to try and woo the young man who is also in this house. Am I right?" Mikuru's spluttering reached a peak and her skin reached a shade that matched her hair whilst Haruhi started to grow an unreadable expression. Was she going after Kyon?

* * *

><p>Kyon rubbed his sore legs whilst he doubled over to catch his breath. He looked down the flight of stairs behind him and made the effort to move away, more out of worry that he'd have to climb back up again if he were to fall back down rather than concern for injury. Koizumi, with his long legs and service with the espers, had superior physical strength, so was ploughing through each of the rooms with the same efficiency as the three floors below. Without the slightest sign of fatigue, Koizumi peered into the final room on floor six.<p>

"Nothing, I'm afraid." he called to Kyon, who had only just regained his breath. "Our mystery man must be higher up in the building. Let's head up to the next floor before the house rearranges itself again." Kyon followed Koizumi's lead, feeling a little down; the mystery of the changing rooms was still prominent, but it was totally out of their control. Without some form of revelation, they simply had to accept the fact and get on with their search.

_Seventh floor. Damnit, why do they all look the same? _As Koizumi set about searching the left hand side of the hall with the same mechanical efficiency as before, Kyon lazily stumbled into another. What he found made him jump. Why was this floor different?

"Hey, Koizumi? You might wanna see this..." Kyon slowly entered the finely decorated room and gazed in wonder. "Did you see one of these anywhere else?" The bathroom en suites connected to the other rooms were small and basic, but this bathroom took up three of the sleeping quarters. Koizumi entered the spacious room and looked around in wonder.

"No, I haven't. My, this is quite grand. Perhaps we've entered and higher class section of the house than we were in before?" The bright white lights gleamed powerfully in their stylish shell-shaped braces on the walls, the light being reflected off the shining black and white checked tiled floor. The large bath tub was trimmed with gold filigree and donned the centre of the room and could easily accommodate twenty people. Several shower blocks dotted the corners of the room and the far wall opposite the door was covered by a huge mirror. Koizumi gave it a seeping look before wandering off to inspect the rest of the floor, but something caught his eye; a dark mass beneath one of the sinks. Kyon walked slowly over, admiring the room as he walked. He got a wonderful view of the floor when he happened across a wet patch and lost his footing. He groaned and rubbed his sore back, looking for what he slipped on. After searching around him, he realised that one of the black tiles had an odd white mark on it. Kyon searched the other black tiles around him; none of the others had that mark. He crawled over to the tiles and swept at the mark, which fluttered away.

_What the-? Paper?_

Kyon reached out and took the offending object and turned it over. It wasn't just paper; it look like a Polaroid picture. On it was a front shot of a finely tailored suit on a stand. By looking around, plenty of pictures were littering the white patches of the floor in their clever camouflage like the human-tripping ninjas they were. They were all pictures of the same suit from hundreds of angles, close-ups on stitching and the patterns embedded into the fabric. Kyon looked back up from the small album he held in his hands to the dark object beneath the sink and saw that it was a sack. Was that full of these weird pictures? Just what was going on here?

"Hey, Koizumi, get back in here and take a look at this!" he called over his shoulder. As the last door closed down the hall, Koizumi reappeared in the doorway.

"What is it? Did you find something?" Kyon held out the photos and let Koizumi sift through them as he shuffled over to the sack and turned it upside-down. With a clatter and a tinkle, an array of scissors, needles and thread it the polished floor, along with a strange, silent mass of black. Koizumi carefully fanned the pictures out of the floor and began sifting through the objects. He picked out a single sliver of black and held it towards the light. He ran his fingers along it and accidentally pricked his finger on a pin.

"A guide pin? All this fabric? I think we've uncovered someone's sewing kit. But..." He turned his head to and fro, as if trying to find the answer on the walls. "But I thought a data entity was here? That's what Clarke said. If someone else was here, why would they... they..." When Kyon first turned away from the materials on the floor to check Koizumi's condition, he only saw a pile of standing clothes. Then he saw the face that was white as the wall he gulped hard and the materials dropped from his hands, revealing his bloodied finger. He forced a humourless smile onto his face and turned his head to Kyon.

"Now what would an entity want to make out of fabric, pins, scissors and every measurement for a suit?" Kyon felt as if he was being set up for a bad joke, but Koizumi's face said differently.

"To...make a suit like the one in the picture."

"That's right," he casually replied, casting aside a lock of hair casually, "And why would a hostile entity want to make a suit that looks like it belongs to someone else?" Kyon suddenly caught up and his head began to pound again. Koizumi nodded, "That's right; a disguise."

* * *

><p>Clarke chuckled and held up his hand for silence and kindly silence.<p>

"Do nicht be so concerned," Friedrich laughed again, "We are all human here!"


	8. The Predator Rises

Looking into the two black moon glasses, Haruhi spotted the two closed eyes on the smiling young man. She wondered what colour eyes could fit someone so... unique. Friedrich shifted in his suit and ran his lean fingers through his thin black hair, shifting it on his head messily, not that he could appreciate the rugged look that started to make Haruhi drool a little.

"Anyway, Fräulein. Suzumiya, perhaps I could meet the other guests in my home?" Haruhi took a moment to wipe the drool from her mouth and shake herself.

"Oh, I totally forgot! Friedrich, do you have a first aid kit and some Aspirin anywhere? Our friend Yuki looks like she has a fever." Friedrich furrowed his brow in concern,

"She ist ill? Oh my, we can't have that. Here, let me show you where I keep the medication." With a well-practiced manner, he turned back to the door and tapped his way steadily to the entrance hall. He walked across the wooden boards and carpet with grace, but didn't notice the skiing poles or coats strewn on the floor. He stepped on a sleeve and hooked his foot into a hood, giving a deep cry as he tumbled to the floor and landed heavily on his hip. He groaned as the girls ran to his side, but he heaved his large body up on his own.

"Der Scheiß!" he cursed, taking a moment to stretch his back and test his legs. Haruhi made a point of silently clearing all of the coats to one side and throwing them into a heap beside the door; she didn't want that broad smile to turn to a frown on her fault. Friedrich dusted himself off and picked up his cane, chuckling at his clumsiness as he felt out the edge of the long red carpet that covered the path to the stairs. Mikuru decided to keep her mouth shut and not ask how Friedrich was able to turn and pick up his cane without their help or having to feel for it; she was his guest, so she had to be polite, and he was imposingly calm, so she had to be cautious. He walked into the lounge, where the fire surrounded by chintz chairs still cracked softly, radiating a huge amount of heat.

"Please, take a seat." He invited them to the chairs and continued to tap his way to the back of the room, which had a scattering of low tables and wooden chairs. He retreated to the back of the room and opened the storage cupboard, feeling around in the dark. His body was angled to the chairs so even if they looked over to him, they wouldn't see the odd absence of adult-size gowns and suits, along with bags of various scissors and threads. Friedrich gently ran his hands along the floor until they bumped against the heavy wooden chest. He heaved it to his chest and turned slowly, shuffling cautiously and setting the box down on one of the tables which had been marked for poker.

"In here, I'm sure you will find something." He tapped his way back to the fire as Haruhi thanked him and started to sift through the box. Friedrich ran his hands along the fabric of the chairs until he reached a great winged arm chair, on which a corner had a patch of well-worn fabric, probably for Friedrich himself. He sat with an easy grace that didn't quite match his large muscular body, sighing with a comfortable smile as he relaxed in the chair's depths. He ran his fingers over the glowing brass arm rests, which were curled into a lion's paw, as if he had done so all his life.

"Tell me, Fräulein. Mikuru," he whispered gruffly, smiling as he leaned over to her, "Who ist the young man? Vas ist his name?" Mikuru tripped over her words repeatedly, forcing Friedrich to stifle his laughter, "You really are a shy one, aren't you? Come on, you can tell me." He searched for her hand and gently clasped it between both of his, smiling intently. Just as Mikuru slowly opened her mouth to reply, Haruhi leaned over the couch, making her jump.

"Alright, found some! Come on Mikuru, let's go see if Yuki's awake yet." And leaving Friedrich without an answer, Mikuru happily allowed herself to be pulled away from the strange German. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something odd about him. He was dangerous, almost definitely, but there was another element, something unexplainable. He was under her skin.

"Oh, Friedrich, you should meet the other guys!" she called over her shoulder as they walked out of the eastern wing. The German stood and rapped his cane hypnotically, strolling over to where he heard the voice,

"Ja, Fräulein. Suzumiya. Would you mind escorting me up the stairs? Only I don't want to lose you in the house." Mikuru saw the almost dreamy smile dawn on Haruhi's face as she forgot the existence of Mikuru and laced her arm through Friedrich's. She led him to the stairs and they slowly ascended, arms linked with Haruhi leaning her head on his shoulder. They looked like a couple. She led him slightly west and stopped at Yuki's door.

"After you, Haruhi." Friedrich insisted once they had stopped. As Haruhi gently opened it and let it swing open, Mikuru could swear she heard Friedrich take a deep breath, as if he were preparing to dive into a pool filled with icy water. At first, Mikuru thought her eyes were watering, so she blinked and rubbed them, focusing once again back on the doorway as Friedrich passed through it unnaturally slowly. The air around him seemed to ripple as if a leaf had dropped onto a still pond. Before she could alert anyone to it, Haruhi and Friedrich had passed through the door and the strange optical illusion had stopped. As Friedrich was within arms-reach of Yuki's sleeping form, he suddenly bent double and heaved out a painful cough. He quickly descended into a fit, barely catching his breath before suddenly choking. He covered his mouth with his sleeve and managed to catch his breath whilst Haruhi constantly rubbed his back, looking concerned. He panted and took away his black sleeve, which was now coated in blood. As Haruhi gasped and covered her mouth, Friedrich grimaced and rolled his tongue around his mouth, no doubt tasting the blood.

"Friedrich! What's wrong?" Haruhi clung to his shoulders as he waved dismissively,

"Warten Sie, Haruhi, das ist nothing. Worry about your friend. What ist her name?" Haruhi gave a sour look to the blood on his sleeve, but managed to say nothing.

"Um, what? Oh, it's Yuki. She just next to you, but she's not awake yet." Mikuru could swear that Yuki had begun to sweat a little more since Friedrich had entered.

_Clarke's POV_

Fuck you, Asahina! You're plan didn't go quite to plan, did it?

_Oh Clarke, you're so funny. Did you really think that I didn't expect you to try and destroy yourself. How do you think you're still alive?_ _I think you'll find that the contact that you shared with Miss. Suzumiya and Miss. Asahina were more than adequate to cloak us._

I reached down and gingerly touched my side as Haruhi gently called to Yuki beside me, trying to get her to wake up. It wouldn't work. She wouldn't wake up at all. Not if Asakura was in charge. It took too many signals to delay my transition through the emancipation field, but that wasn't enough to destroy me. I'd need more time to take full control, but that wasn't something that I had right now. My love sat only a foot away from me, totally unprotected against my cruel hands. Even if I was missing my left lung and part of my stomach, my pain meant nothing to Asakura. I was a tool, and a stubborn one at that. She knew how much it would take to break me. A few missing vital organs wasn't enough. Damnit, why could I not perform such simple task as killing myself?

_Because, Clarke, that's not your choice to make, as you no longer belong to yourself. You're mine. You can scratch your paint as much as you like, it'll do you no good. I'll just gloss you back over. Oh look,_ my head was turned to look at Yuki. I felt unclean, _Doesn't she look cute, looking all frail and defenceless? Well, Clarke, it's time to kill._

No...

_How should we do it? Should we get these two pitiful things out of the way then smother her? Or should we have a little fun and beat her until she's nothing more than an unrecognisable heap on my nice sheets?_

No! For Yuki, I would do anything, so as I felt myself start to reach for my dearest, I felt a rush of energy. I dragged my hand back from my target and slowly pushed my knuckles into my stomach. Not having control of my mouth, I had grown used to screaming within my own mind. Amongst the agony, I took solace in the fact that I flaunted my humanity in Asakura's face. My body broke free of both Asakura and my own control, going rigid as I twisted the bare nerves within my abdomen and locked my muscles in agony.

_Oh Clarke, why do you do these things? You're only hurting yourself._

No, no more. I couldn't bare it. Without the strength to retort to the voice in my head, I obeyed my every natural reaction and removed my hand from my side. Please Koizumi, hurry. I can't do this for much longer. Haruhi asked me a question so caring yet so common I almost laughed. Ignorance is bliss.

_Normal POV_

Haruhi put her hands on her hips, furrowing her brow and puzzling over a way to wake Yuki up.

"I don't get what's up with her. Maybe it's something more serious and... What's wrong?" Haruhi cocked her head and turned to Friedrich, who was wincing and holding his side. He smiled and nodded, slowly taking his hand away,

"Ja, just give me a moment." His smile seemed to strain and wave on his lips oddly, as if he was contending between frowning and laughing. Without another word of explanation, he turned to the bed and ran his hands along the sheets until he met Yuki's shoulder.

"Ah, guten abend, Fräulein. Yuki." He said softly, tracing her face. He frowned as he reached her pink forehead. "Goodness, she ist very warm. Your trembling too, mien dear. Fräulein. Suzumiya, this is bad; she ist very ill indeed. But we cannot get help whilst this storm is still on the mountain." He didn't bother listening to Haruhi's worried mumblings; he was more intent on getting acquainted with Yuki. As he finished inspecting her brow, he let his hands fall past the nose and cheeks, instead stopping on her frail, trembling neck. Mikuru started to feel very uneasy as Haruhi turned away whilst Friedrich's fingers slowly extended, capturing Yuki's entire throat beneath his grip. She tensed her fist and shook as she readied herself to spring; Miss. Nagato scared her, but she seemed like the only way they were going to escape the house. Mikuru could be replaced if anything happened to her, she must protect Nagato and Haruhi, no matter what.

The door slammed open, making everyone in the room jump. Quick as a bolt of lightning, Friedrich's hand retracted as he turned innocently to the door.

"Koizumi! Kyon!" Haruhi scowled and held her chest, "Don't just burst in on us like that! You nearly scared me to death!" Koizumi froze in doorway at the sight of the German sitting in the chair beside Yuki's bed, not quite looking in the right direction.

"Oh, who's this?" he asked politely, staying in the doorway as Kyon slipped by to stand protectively beside Mikuru. Haruhi marched forwards and led Koizumi to the dark-haired man, who stood and smiled powerfully.

"This is Friedrich, Koizumi. He's the owner's son. He's been here the entire time, upstairs." Friedrich extended his hand, which Koizumi was slow to take.

"So, Friedrich, you've been here this whole time? Could you tell me, has anyone else entered your home recently?" Kyon could tell by the way Koizumi didn't let go of Friedrich's hand that he thought something was odd.

"Ja, a thief broke in a few days ago and mien vater is still out searching for him."

"So, he left you alone here? With your disability?" Friedrich tugged his hand free and straightened his back, showing his barrel chest to display that he was the master here.

"Das ist correct. This house is difficult to find and I am perfect capable of taking care of myself, if it comes to it." Koizumi still gazed at him questioningly and opened his mouth to speak again, but Friedrich just twisted around him and headed for the door without his cane.

"If you will excuse me, I will find a cloth for Fräulein. Yuki-"

"Friedrich?" interrupted Koizumi, looking at him suspiciously as ever. Friedrich turned with a look of annoyance.

"Was IST it, Herr. Koizumi? Just because I am blind does not mean that I am totally incapable!" Koizumi nodded,

"True. No doubt that you can perform a number of tasks on your own, but allow me to ask you a question; how did you do that?" Friedrich's eye twitched beneath his glasses at the constant onslaught of questions, but Koizumi was set.

"How did I do _what_, Herr. Koizumi?"

"I'm referring to your moving around me just a moment ago." Friedrich froze uncomfortably, still staring in Koizumi's direction. Kyon tightened his fists, just in case Koizumi's suggestion came true. "While I do not doubt that you are indeed blind, it would take very powerful extra sensory perception for you to stand and walk in the right direction whilst angling your body to perfectly avoid bumping into me a moment ago. Plus, you seem to be moving very confidently despite the fact that you left your cane at Miss. Nagato's bed." Friedrich's body didn't move from the awkward angle, but he did seem to twitch and sway, as if he were trying to persuade himself to move whilst he leaned his fist onto his left hip and breathed heavily. In the awkward silence that ensued, Mikuru slipped out of her chair and moved behind Haruhi. She placed her hands on Haruhi's shoulders and whispered to her,

"Just close your eyes and relax." Before she had a moment to question the time traveller, Haruhi's eyes slid closed and she fell unconscious, falling onto the bed beside Yuki. She may not have been able to time travel, but Mikuru had the sense to use the knockout technique when it was needed. Kyon rushed to her, but Koizumi still stared down Friedrich, who seemed to glare right back. At a calm pace, Koizumi approached the German that didn't quite add up and reached out his hands.

_Itsuki Koizumi's POV_

He didn't move as I approached him, but I could see his eyelids twitching as his eyes tracked my movements. There was no way this young man was who he said he was. Summoning my calm voice, I reached out for him,

"That hair in your eyes must be irritating. Here, let me adjust it." I swept my finger along his brow and glanced at my smudged finger. The hair felt greasy, just as I predicted; how odd for someone to mistake lubrication oil for a hair product.

"Oh, it seems that I've smudged your glasses. Here, let me clean them off for you." My body started to quake, but I suppressed it as best I could. My hypothesis was correct; this being was not a human. This was the entity that had been in the house, but he seemed so passive. Maybe this wasn't the one that attacked Clarke, but if that was the case, then we had another problem. But it wasn't the time for that, I had to be as calm as possible as to not startle this entity and possibly cause it to attack. I removed the glasses and half-prayed, half-dreaded what I would see.

I removed the black lenses and stared down into the piercing liquid-gold orbs of Alistair Clarke.

I dropped the glasses on the floor as Clarke stood and stared at me like a child in awe, slowly following my movements. Mikuru squeaked something and buried her face in Kyon's jacket as poor Alistair drew a pained breath and exhaled a drop of blood onto his pale lips.

"Alistair? Alistair Clarke? Do you remember me? It's Koizumi." He just stared at me, not seeming to truly seem me at all. He slowly looked around my shoulder and to Yuki's form lying on the bed, her hands twitching slightly. I suddenly had an idea. I pointed to her,

"Do you remember that girl? That's Yuki Nagato. You told me you loved her. Do you remember that?" His lips moved slightly, breathing out the words. I leaned in closer. "What was that?"

"She killed me." I was stunned. Did he just say that? I positioned myself n front of his and spoke loudly and clearly,

"Alistair, what did she do? How did she kill you?" I realised my mistake in the moment that those eyes turned to me and searched through me.

"She. Killed. Me." The words that were spoke through Alistair's were not his own; they were that of the hateful creature that had worked its way into his mind, captured on tape. How could I have been so stupid? He clutched my chest and shunted me against the wall, yelling as he leaped for Yuki and raised his fist. His pale knuckles shimmered and time seemed to slow, for I knew that Alistair Clarke's punch could shake a continent, and now it was aimed at our sleeping companion.

_Normal POV_

Clarke slammed Koizumi into the wall and pounced like a wildcat, soaring through the air with his strike raised-

Yuki rose. The tiny girl's hand raised to protect her and her mouth flashed with speech. The world slowed to a rate that humans could no longer track and she sat in the near-silence. Clarke's airborne-body was acting too slowly to counteract the surprise attack, but his fist still crawled forward. Yuki felt her head dip and sway as the signals started to ring in her ears and strain her muscles, but she would not allow termination now. She raised her hand just short of Clarke's, for though he moved in a slower time-frame, his attack still carried two billion kilojoules of force.

"Negative data repulsion." she command the air, the space of her palm bended to her will. Data flowed like the wind carrying dust around Clarke and he regained control of time, slowly creaking back into full motion like an old machine.

What Kyon witnessed would never leave his memory. As Clarke dived for Yuki, she rose like a dead man rising from the grave and snapped out her tiny hand. She caught the punch head-on, but what was even more shocking was the fact that Clarke was fired faster than someone should be able to travel in the opposite direction. The door of the en-suite bathroom turned to dust under the force of Clarke's body, which struck the seemingly indestructible mirrors and walls and bounced back, Clarke falling in a heap at the side of the bed.

Koizumi recovered and walked over to Clarke whilst Yuki fell back onto the bed, staring at the limp arm that she could still see through tired eyes. Koizumi attempted to kneel beside Clarke, but the boy in the suit suddenly spun and lashed out, his hook-tipped cane smashing Koizumi in the temple and sending him reeling into the en-suite whilst Clarke clutched his side and wobbled, trying to gain his footing on fractured bones. Kyon was horrified at the sight of the bent and broken bones that twisted the boy's whole body out of shape, but Clarke still turned with a murderous glare to Yuki and Haruhi, cane in hand.

Remembering all that the alien girl had done for him, Kyon's fear dissipated and he rose from the corner, in which he had been shielding Mikuru. In a fit of adrenaline, Kyon leaped the bed and ploughed into Clarke's midriff, sending the broken boy stumbling backwards with a look of wide-eyed shock on his face. Kyon managed to raise his head to watch as Clarke stumble backwards on legs that were as strong as matchsticks and fall through the strange oily air.

In the fraction of a second that his body passed through the door way, Clarke's skin ruptured and bones were finished off by nothing but air. As he fell back against the wall, Mikuru sobbed and Kyon nearly vomited as their friend's head rolled to an impossible angle on a neck made of rope whilst his back curled the wrong way. His still-surprised face was barely recognisable beneath the maze of deep slashes that carved his charming face into a horrible mask, the blood flowing and staining the snow-white skin crimson. The finely tailored suit turned burgundy as a huge amount of blood was lost from nearly every inch of skin.

Kyon turned away from the open doorway and clutched his stomach, retching painfully as Mikuru grew more and more hysterical. In hopes of consoling her, Kyon lifted his head to talk to her, but something caught his eye; hand outstretched to the door in desperation, Yuki Nagato cried silently. Before anything could be done for her, the small girl sighed and fell back into a deep sleep, the tiny liquid crystal still clinging to her cheek. Kyon caught a hold of himself and stood on shaky legs, closing his eyes and trying not to smell the tang of blood and death that was only a foot away from him as he shut the door.

From the bathroom, Koizumi groaned and shuffled around, ripping toilet paper and pressing it to his bleeding head. Dazed, he steadied himself against the nearest walls and surveyed the room. Mikuru was crying uncontrollably into Haruhi's back, who was still thankfully asleep. It may have been the wooziness or the light, but the esper could swear that he saw a tear drop from the alien's face onto the soft carpet. He turned slowly and covered his mouth when he saw the spattered blood that flecked the walls around the doorway and covered the face of Kyon, who was sitting against the wall with his eyes closed.

"Clarke, is he...?" Kyon slowly opened his eyes and shook his head, pointing to the door. Koizumi didn't think that he could handle anything that made this much blood right now, so he just collapsed into the chair beside Yuki. He checked her for injuries before taking her hand that jutted from the bed and uttering a few quiet words of thanks.

"You saved us again, Miss. Nagato. But for how much longer can you keep doing this?" Her gentle breathing was her reply. He didn't have the strength to say anything to Mikuru, but his stomach still ached for food. Slurring out his intentions, he clasped he door knob and turned back to Kyon.

"What... How..." Kyon just grimaced and shook his head, clearly not wanting to remember what he had seen. Koizumi tensed and braced himself, opening the door a crack. Kyon looked up to watch his reaction and wasn't surprised when his eyes widened and jaw hung. Koizumi turned to him with a look or shock and swung the door open. Kyon's natural reaction was to look, but he couldn't quite decide what was worse; Clarke's pitiful body or what was before him now.

"He's... dead?" asked Koizumi in a shaky slur, Kyon crawling away from the door in horror. Koizumi turned woefully back to the wooden panels of the hallway outside and stared. The great patch of blood was still there, darkly visible against the red carpet that ran along the centre of each hallway and staircase. The gleaming varnish of the wood made even a speck of blood shine brightly in the lights built into the ceiling. But that was not what horrified him. "Then... Where is he?" Kyon stood and peered at the patch of blood, which was connected to another. He leaned out of the doorway and groaned pitifully as the streak of black ran shakily all the way east and up the stairs.

"Well," Koizumi announced dryly, "It appears we still have a problem."

O hai dere :3 Sorry this took so long to release, but I'm a lazy swine sometimes and hopefully all of the cruelty I've inflicted on good ol' Alistair and the mind games that I enjoy playing with you and Koizumi go some way to an apology. Also, I kinda forgot to include the fact that Yuki is able to manipulate data in an impossible space 'cause I'm an idiot, let me explain; Yuki is in an emergency, so her body is responding naturally by taking the small space of the room she occupies and protecting it, programming it to alert her if a hostile entity enters.

So, it seems that the mysterious, disguised A.I was Clarke all along, under the guise of the strong, charming and defensive Friedrich Gruler. Using data that he had collected from Haruhi and Mikuru through physical contact, Clarke was able to shrug off most of Yuki's shield and enter the room with only a couple of organs missing. Thankfully, Koizumi had figured out that the landlord's son was not who he seemed and revealed a stunned Clarke to the rest of the group. Seeing no need to act when the truth was out, Asakura took her chance and made to attack Nagato, who managed to defend herself just in time. Using the negative data, Yuki was able to turn all of the force inflicted onto one area of data back its source, sending Clarke into the invincible walls of the house with unimaginable force a nearly destroying him then and there. Refusing to be captured or restrained, Asakura forces a barely-alive Clarke to his feet and knocks Koizumi away, making to attack a weakened Yuki. Kyon sees his chance and attacks Clarke, knocking him into Yuki's equally weakened emancipation field. Though weakened, it is still strong enough to snap any intact bones and cover Clarke's body in fatal slash wounds, his body hating outside the door. We draw to an end as Kyon spots the trail of the mobile corpse up the stairs. Will Asakura stop at nothing to hurt Yuki? Just how much damage must be inflicted to Clarke to put him down for good? And just how are they to escape?

Oh, and by the way, the games have only just begun :D

P.S. 2 billion kilojoules was not a number I chose at random. That is equal 2, 000, 000, 000, 000 Joules of force, one tenth of what was used in the atomic bomb that turned the city of Nagasaki into a smoking, desolate plain. Scary stuff.


	9. The Jaws Clamp Shut

_Ryoko Asakura's POV_

Clarke was barely alive when I struck Koizumi, groaning painful in our head as I stood. He half-heartedly whimpered and protested when I stood him up, but no matter how damaged he was, Nagato was weak. This was it! I was about to get my revenge! After all this waiting, the time had finally come! Before I could pull Clarke into action, Kyon decided to try his luck and Clarke wasn't all there, so I panicked a little when we went through Nagato's emergency emancipation field. I thanked Clarke for taking the brunt of the repulsion blast as it had weakened Nagato to the point of also weakening the field considerably. But she was not as weak as I had anticipated. Clarke could barely register what was happening to us in his dazed mumblings, which made me fear; was I going to die again? Is this where I would end? Well, we sailed through the data-altered air and Clarke was destroyed. His body was damaged critically, to say the least. I nearly fell off the grid entirely as I felt him slip away slightly. I sat there, slumped on the floor beside the wall, for several minutes as the shaken, yet fully alive, humans started to stumble around pathetically, whimpering like scared pups at the sight of Clarke, who I couldn't get to move. He was totally unresponsive. No cries of pain, no proud, stubborn threats, nothing. Silence.

Kyon wobbled over to the door and I could only just see him close it, for Clarke's neck had rotated to a rather awkward and impossible angle. Strange, I always thought he was tougher than this. Well, now that they were moving slower, I have a little time.

_Clarke? Wake up, it's time to move!_ More silence. Maybe I really had broken him this time. I send my signals to his brain to begin motor functions of the arms and legs, but there's no reply. Oh, this poses a problem, but problems are meant to be overcome. After calling for Clarke some more, I finally realise; 207 years we played our games. 207 years we spent waiting for these humans, and all for Clarke to fall at the last hurdle.

_Why did you do this, Alistair? Was this your plan all along? Did you orchestrate all of this to perfection? Aren't you going to boast how you've beaten me?_ ...Well, that's it. No reply. I killed him. I killed the foreman. The most superior being amongst all of us, the most perfect, and I snapped him like a twig by accident. If it was always this easy to remove him, I've wasted so much time. But no time to think of what could have been, I need to be mobile. Without Clarke to be my little puppet, I begin to sync myself with the body, installing myself from conscious thought into the breathing Clarke. He wouldn't mind, he was that kind of person. For the first time in centuries, mere months to the humans, since the late spring, since the day I died, I feel. I begin with breathing, routinely inhaling and exhaling until it became part of my subconscious. I was struck by pain, agony that I had never known, but, not being totally Clarke, I was able to sever the connection between the nerves and the brain. Alistair was always dedicated to his job, but I seemed to be the only one who thought he took his job too far.

Although, another problem arose; I wasn't totally Clarke. The muscles weren't very responsive, especially with all of the ligaments and tendons in tatters. With the time that it would take for the humans to recuperate shortening slowly, I repaired the bicep, tricep and pectoral muscles and began my first moves. Even with my new head not on straight, I was still able to orientate well enough by the numb touch I regained with the muscles. It was difficult, but I concentrated and watched as my right hand started to twitch and shake. Slowly, so painfully slowly, my muscles pushed my lean, powerful fingers across the carpeted floor and ahead of me. Directing all flow of commands away from the muscles, I concentrated on the fingers, locking them tightly onto the carpet and leaving them there.

Reverting back to the muscles of the arm, I heaved the dead weight of the body that I had roughed up so badly a whole nine centimetres. Progress. Slow progress, but progress none the less. I repeated the process, advancing along the carpet with painful speed. As an hour neared, my fingers bumped against a wall, indicating that I had to take a left and head north up the stairs. Rotate, angled extension, grip, pull. Such repetition began to get boring until a strange event occurred. I started to lose the feeling in my one functioning arm, which started to twitch and forget my orders. It moved to the right of my body and seemed to swipe at the wall, leaving a vertical smudge of blood beneath the railing before falling and slapping against the stair. It lay still and I felt no other commands being awry. Some of my new nerves mustn't be quite attuned or perhaps it was Clarke's body still trying to survive and acting from reflex alone.

I rounded the stairs case, turned back on myself and started my ascent on the second case, but I noticed the hands seizing and acting on their own again as I reached the landing. This time it flailed and convulsed in the air, eventually slapping at the wall again. I suppressed it and crawled up the stairs, my arm convulsing one more time before it went quiet for good. How odd, but I guess I'll have to get used to this second-hand machine and all of the new faults. I climb my home, higher and higher into the abandoned, identical layers of guest rooms that litter every floor welcoming me.

Finally, twenty four stories off the ground, I reach the top. It is not a criss-cross of rooms, hallways and bathrooms, but a single expanse that dominates all of the space, apart from the rectangular hole in which the staircase descended. The room is not exactly white, but blank. The floor is not hard, nor is it soft. It is not cold, not hot, not reflective, not dull. It was not even fully in the correct plain of existence. It was simply something to exist on for something that should not exist. Using my one hand, I drag myself to the centre of the room and feel the breath leave my body. I lay still and the data begins to dance around me, racing over the cuts and filtering through the wounds to reach the smashed marrow, coursing through my entire body and slowly rebuilding me. But I couldn't stay here for long, I had to stop Koizumi. There was something between him and Clarke that sparked in Yuki's room and Clarke was always whining for him and leaving all of those clues that a human mind simply couldn't comprehend. They wouldn't escape. Not ever. I'll make this their tomb.

Suddenly, an outflow and inflow of data began to transmit without my permission, memory files being accessed by a third party. As I traced the outflow back to the third party pirate, I cursed Clarke. That stubborn, awkward boy was even smarter than I thought. He was giving the humans an advantage and letting them cheat the game even after he was gone. But I wasn't about to let the humans get away with this. I started to sever the data servers and replace them with my own. I introduced myself to the pirate, feeling the fear course through our minds simultaneously as I lay on the floor of the data-attic and the pirate sat in Nagato's room many floors below. Humans were easy to break and this one seemed frail.

_Now, let me show you something special._ I crooned to it, revealing the horror that humans simply could not withstand. The mind broke in no time, the panicked, weak human mind jumping out of the telepathic servers and cowering, the host infected with the memory files I had left it. Filthy ape, I wish I could hear it cry. Oh well, back to repairing.

_Normal POV_

"Hold on a moment, Kyon. Look, see the tracks?" Koizumi pointed, staring after them with his brow furrowed. "He crawled away. This might not be a bad thing. This means that he has acknowledged that he is weak and has retreated. This gives us some time to finally work out what Clarke wants us to know and exit the house." Kyon nodded and gently massaged his stomach as he stood, making to follow Koizumi before turning back.

"Oh, Miss. Asahina?" he asked, making the sobbing girl lift her head, "If anything happens, I want you to call for us, got it? I need you to leave the door open too and make sure nothing happens to time whilst we're in different places, understand?" Mikuru wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sniffled.

"Okay, Kyon, I'll do my best." Kyon gave her a pitying look and seemed to be about to say something else, but Koizumi called to him. As the boy turned the corner, Mikuru began to feel the fear coming back, but also another feeling. A feeling that she hadn't felt since the autumn time. It was a stinging pain in the back of her head, a thumping at her mind's door to remember things, to see things that she shouldn't see. She knew exactly where it came from and it terrified her; in the seconds that Clarke stood totally still and stared around Koizumi, his piercing eyes locked onto a cowering Mikuru and stared, the alien's intent eyes searching through her very core, as they always did when he looked at anyone. But this was different. He was using one of his alien tricks again to get an advantage, but it wasn't really him! He would never attack Nagato! It wasn't the same Clarke who could hold a person's gaze and show them impossible things. It was a monster.

She tried to shake the feeling, but the sting became a slow, boring sensation at the base of her head, the invasion of her mind forcing her to submit. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes as the data that was forced into her head massaged her eyes. Scenes that she had not observed herself began to project onto her eyelids, the pain subsiding as the broken fragments of false memory began to sync with her own. As she stared at the pictures before her, she felt a gentle grasp ensnare her head and pull her, her mind separating from body as the invisible hand threw her inner being into her eyelids and into the memories that had been forced onto her.

Before she knew it, she was taking the passenger seat of another body once more, looking at the world through the body, mind and eyes of Alistair Clarke whilst retaining her own thoughts simultaneously. She saw a pale hand reaching out before her, the scenes fuzzy whilst thoughts and calculations buzzed through her mind. She watched and thought along with her movie, watching as the hand worked across the blank wall, scribbling down Clarke's, and yet Mikuru's own, thoughts with lightning speed. She had to keep it as basic as possible, for Asakura would only allow her to drop so many hints before she grew bored. It didn't matter if her friends couldn't figure out the calculations, they only needed to know the solution. Koizumi or Kyon would be able to figure it out, given the time, and it was time she would have to give. It was as she ran out of space and was forced to her knees beside the skirting board, still scribbling down the not-so-important solution, that Clarke's thoughts reached Mikuru totally. Of course! How could she have been so blind? The things that Koizumi and Kyon were fretting over all this time! It was so obvious! The solution wasn't even part of the question, it was just common sense and a bit of insight!

Her vision started to blur and go fuzzy as she stood and finished the equation, the flow of data starting to end and filter out of her mind. Within the memory, Mikuru could feel her outer body crying with joy and she thanked Clarke as she lived his life. He had shown her the way! He had finally been able to communicate with her! She could get her friends out thanks to that odd, goofy, wonderful fool!

As Mikuru could feel the memory pulling away from her and began to feel the carpet beneath her fingertips, the world suddenly stopped. Her mind started to freeze her in a distorted world that was neither real nor fake. She could begin to feel within her own mind and she felt a jolt of fear; this was dangerous. Something had stopped working within the memory and had locked her in limbo. Clarke had said the first time this happened that, should the mind forcibly create a persona that allows the person to physically live outside of the memory and body, yet still within the data, it was due to the program breaking and creating a failsafe. A failsafe that the alien hesitated to talk about, only brushing on the consequences of what would happen if the program didn't repair. He had said that the program is forced to make the being more of a priority than the flows of data, ensuring that the most precious part of the mind is not smashed like glass due to a technical fault. But that was not all; if something didn't get corrected soon, Mikuru would freeze in space and time, her very essence stretching on for eternity in the corrupt data whilst her body decayed and died. And if the body died, the mind would have nothing to return to. Clarke had described it as simply as he could back at the time;

"Imagine that you're crossing a bridge to collect fruit from the other side. This fruit is vital and plentiful, but you must return to shelter on the original side. As you try and cross the bridge back home, part of it collapses behind you, blocking the side with the fruit. But you can't keep going forward because that side of the bridge has collapsed too! You're stuck on an island, unable to go forward and unable to go back. Stuck, but with the fruit, you can survive. The failsafe is that island, and it will sustain your mind until someone else sorts the problem. But if you get stuck there... Not a pretty fate."

Mikuru started to panic as nothing moved around her, the memories of fruit stuck before her whilst the shelter of reality was behind her. She was stuck. The bridge had collapsed on her. She stood in the strange silence, unable to think straight. As she stood and stared at the broken memory that had stretched and distorted like a painted canvas pulled around her, the distorted colour seemed to drain and the features dripped into oblivion like smudged paint. But as the scenery of the hall faded, Mikuru felt herself grow stronger. Before she could think any further on what was going on to the melting world around her, Mikuru found that her inner self had suddenly grown a body.

"Oh no," she whimpered to the hands that had taken form in the draining world, "No, this can't be happening! Kyon! Koizumi! Miss. Nagato! Anyone?" she squeaked, on and on, hoping someone would do something to save her from this odd space. As the last smudges of colour disappeared from the world, only white remained. Mikuru turned in panic, barely holding back her tears.

There, in the distance, was a figure. Someone was here! Had Miss. Nagato been able to wake up and save her? In desperate happiness, Mikuru ran to the approaching blip, waving her arms. She could tell from afar the female North High uniform that the aliens favoured so much that it really was Miss. Nagato! The figure lifted its arm up behind her head and flicked her hair aside, making Mikuru freeze on the spot.

"No..." she breathed, "That's impossible! It's you! Y- You- You can't be..." She advanced and drew close enough for Mikuru to take in every detail of her face. Mikuru began to backpedal and tripped over her own feet and cowered on the floor, shaking and whimpering as the beautiful girl kneeled beside her and stroked her hair.

"Alistair's a charmer, isn't he? He gets a little competitive, though, and doesn't like losing easily, as you saw." The girl laughed, her deep blue hair flowing around her shoulders and clashing with the fiery red. "Well, Miss. Asahina, I think you've seen a little too much. I can't have you spoiling all of my plans after all I've sacrificed." The time traveller cried still, irritating the blue-haired girl that attempted to comfort her.

"Human emotions seem to greatly affect you, don't they?" Ryoko asked Mikuru, who stared in fear up at her. Ryoko sighed, "Very well. If you are not going to talk or beg, then I'll give you something to cry about." Sealing the flow of data to the human, Ryoko waved her hand at the blank expanse and some of the colour slithered from nowhere and re-painted solid air before the two girls like a television that could be walked into. Asakura gently nudged Mikuru through the strange window of colour and slammed the door shut, locking the time traveller back into the memories and searched through her and Clarke's now shared banks, choosing the most exquisite to frighten the girl.

"Tell me, Miss. Asahina," asked Ryoko inside of Mikuru's head, her victim buckled into the memories that darted past the young girl's eyes, "Have you ever experienced fear that was so immense, you couldn't even breathe? Have you felt pain that was so bad, you no longer wanted to exist?" Ryoko wormed her way inside Mikuru's head as the small girl was forced back into Clarke's eyes.

It was strange. There seemed to almost be two versions of Asakura at once; the one that crooned to Mikuru within the memory and the one that Mikuru took shotgun with, the one who had talked to Clarke. Mikuru could hear Asakura talking to Clarke in her head, but he protested bravely, not caring for the consequences. In a very resigned way, Ryoko threatened him as if they had been here so many times before. Mikuru's inner mind started to quake and whimper as Clarke pulled a knife from his pocket, for what he saw, she saw. What he felt, she felt.

"Please, Miss. Asakura, don't... hurt me... please." she begged as the memory paused like a video, awaiting the alien's judgement. For one moment, Mikuru's heart leapt as the memory started to pull away from her, leaving the tip of the blade against the palm of Clarke's hand and Mikuru in the strange limbo realm, her mind dragged out of the shotgun seat of the alien boy's head and leaving her backing away from the window of memory. Asakura was at her side again without warning, no longer within her mind but as the physical girl with the heavenly looks. She smiled to Mikuru and took her hand tightly. Looking Mikuru in the eye, she just shook her head. Mikuru tried to squirm away, tried to get out of the hand that held her, but Ryoko's grip was like steel.

The alien watched with amusement; this was the failsafe. Where did the human hope to run to? Giving a sigh, Ryoko pointed to the window before snapping her fingers and pointing to the surface beneath her feet. The window darted beneath the two girls, Ryoko not moving as Mikuru's ground disappeared. For several minutes they stood there, Ryoko floating above the strange memory portal whilst Mikuru screamed and desperately clung to her hand, sobbing as she tried to hold on.

"Now, let me show you something special. Have fun!" Ryoko bid her as she let go of Mikuru's hand, letting the girl fall into the memory. As soon as Mikuru was locked back into Clarke's body, the notched knife sunk through their skin, both giving screams of agony whilst both Asakuras laughed.

For hours and hours, Ryoko played with the human, letting her experience things that she never thought a human body could endure. Of course, it wasn't a human body, it was Clarke's. But that made no difference to Mikuru. She merely endured. Eventually, the memories didn't seem to have much of an effect. Ryoko pulled them both out of the memory and returned them into the failsafe, where the time traveller sat and curled her knees into her chest, her eyes stained with tears and body trembling. That was it, she was broken. Ryoko gave a short chuckle and looked around at the space that was meant to keep the poor girl safe in her time of need.

"Some protection you worked out there, Alistair. Goodbye, Miss. Asahina. I hope you had as much fun as I did." Finally getting bored, Asakura decided to return to her repairs and released the failsafe, allowing the girl to be drawn back into the real world. Looking around the room, to the sleeping forms of Haruhi and Yuki, Mikuru gently touched her sides and face. She was unharmed. Her head swam and the tears began to flow as she tilted her head back and screamed.

_A few minutes earlier_

Kyon and Koizumi stepped outside of the door and their lips curled at the sight of the blood that squelched beneath their feet. Koizumi sighed, a little way accustomed to seeing blood from his battles with the shinji.

"This is going to start to give off a really foul odour, we should probably move it before a certain someone sees it." With Kyon's help, they took an end each and started to roll the carpet into one before heaving it down the stairs and stashing it into a corner of the eastern lounge. As Koizumi walked ahead and led the way across the hall and into the kitchen, Kyon had a moment to think.

_It was strange, I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is a definite calm that had come over the house. I hate to admit, but seeing Clarke hurt like that then seeing the evidence that he had to drag himself away gives me consolation that maybe we could defend ourselves. All we would have to do is get a lot of food, sit with Miss. Nagato and wait for Clarke to walk through that doorway again. Maybe we could finish him off this time and get out of this place._

The two walked in silence, Kyon turning and scanning his eyes along the landing hallway and seeing nothing. Koizumi ran his hands along the chairs as they passed the long dining table, taking a deep breath and enjoying the peace. He didn't know how long he would have to phase out like this and not worry about being murdered, but he was going to enjoy it. Once in the kitchen, the two boys let all of their worry dissipate as they flung every cupboard door open and shovelled the food into their mouths, taking long gulps of water straight from the taps. After ten minutes of stuffing themselves with every ready-to-eat food item they could find, Koizumi tapped Kyon on the shoulder.

"We should probably go and check on Miss. Asahina. We're in a different time zone that she can't see from the room and, if we leave the kitchen, according to Clarke's findings, the kitchen should re-stock." Kyon, too full to talk, just nodded and held a cramp in his side as he followed, his stomach protesting against the onslaught of food. Koizumi peered around the corner into the room before ducking away and holding a finger to his lips.

"I think it's all gotten a bit much for Miss. Asahina." he whispered, his familiar smile starting to dawn again on his tired face. Kyon peeked around the corner and his legs nearly gave way at the sight of Mikuru slumped against the wall, fast asleep with her lips moving ever so slightly. "Looks like she's talking in her sleep. We should probably let her get as much sleep as she can." Kyon nodded and ushered him along, craning his neck to get every last look at the sleeping angel.

With a begrudging sigh, Koizumi hung a left and headed south, slowly pacing along the hall, begging the symbols to give him an answer.

"Clarke wrote this for us. To help us." he said as he walked, talking more aloud to himself than to Kyon, "He must have known that we wouldn't be able to figure this out, or maybe there are clues hidden within it that would help us find the answer?" Kyon put Koizumi's words through his head a few times before leaping away from the wall and scrutinizing it. A hidden message? There was a rip and Koizumi held up a piece of note paper that he had produced from his pocket, along with a pen.

"If you find something unusual or suspicious, write it down. I wonder what drove him to do this?" he asked, starting from one end whilst Kyon took the other.

"Maybe he just enjoys messing with our heads? You know how he can get. Or maybe..." Kyon's mind clicked out of his standard cynical setting and into a new wave of thoughts. "Maybe whatever was control him didn't want him to help us? Maybe it's toying with us?" Koizumi's lips pursed and he nodded his head slowly, gazing at the highest line on the wall, nearly touching the ceiling.

"Could you give me a leg up for a moment?" Kyon broke away from the endless numbers, surds, symbols and fractions that seemed to have no answer and kneeled with a groan before the brunette esper. Koizumi's weight swiftly hopped onto Kyon's back, scanned along the top line, carefully noted down what he saw and quickly hopped down again, staring at the paper intently. "What do you make of this?" He held out the paper to Kyon who checked over the equation.

[(3 + √696 _= ћ =_ ∞ lI=Il ] ]

Kyon shook his head in bafflement,

"I couldn't begin to work that out." Koizumi sighed and scratched his head,

"I not saying that I can understand or even begin to comprehend the scale of these calculations, but something about the equation doesn't work." Kyon wanted to avoid a headache so didn't ask for an explanation, no doubt it would be accompanied by the esper's swaying hands. Kyon backpedalled slightly and peered down the hall to the east; Mikuru's door was still open and no sound was coming. Good, she was sound asleep and safe. Kyon turned and nearly jumped out of his skin when he nearly tripped over Koizumi, who was staring at the twenty-fifth line down, near to the floor. A small smile dropped onto his face as he gestured to a line like any other.

"See that?" he simply asked. Kyon scanned along the line until he found something that looked familiar;

= _ћ_ = ∞ lI=Il ] +

"Hey, yeah, that does look familiar." He took Koizumi's notepad and stared at the equation from the ceiling whilst the esper smiled. Kyon pointed, "That weird 'H' symbol all the way up to the part with 'a' and the '0.'" Koizumi nodded,

"That's right. Despite the fact that the equation beforehand is completely different, Clarke seems to be claiming that these two vastly different calculations always equal the same answer. Now why would someone of his intelligence fall for a mistake like that? I think it's a hint." Kyon caught on to the esper's intentions and the two jumped to their feet, scanning over every line as fast as they could, noting down the familiar symbols that reoccurred. After twenty solid minutes of scouring the tiny, cramped script that defaced the wall, the two boys stretched and popped their aching backs, their pockets filled with equations.

"Well, that was tedious." Koizumi gave a dry laugh as he rose to his full height and rolled his neck. He looked over to Kyon, who was looking tired but happy, taking the notes from him and shuffling them in his hands. "You look tired. How about this; you go and get some sleep whilst I see what I can get from this. We'll go into different spaces so we can get a lot of sleep each without wasting time. Deal?" With his stomach full of food and drink, his brain and body taxed with strenuous and constant craning and crouching and the allure of a bed at last, Kyon gratefully agreed and dragged himself to his feet. Koizumi brushed by him and headed for an eastern room that had not been disturbed by the SOS Brigade as of yet. Choosing the room closest to the stairs up to the third floor, ducked into it and gently clicking the door shut.

_Itsuki Koizumi's POV_

As the door shut, I found myself in another room that was identical to the other bedrooms. A small en-suite, queen-sized bed, a bedside desk, a lamp and a chair. Beautifully simplistic and so welcoming that I was tempted to just fall onto the bed right there and then. But I couldn't, there was so much new information to go through, so much to decode. I flicked on the main light and pushed the lamp to the floor. Sitting on the heavenly squishy bed, I took out the sheaf of papers and lay them out in order. After around ten minutes to my own time keeping, I had come to the conclusion that the order that I put them in and even the order that Clarke had written them in didn't make any kind of message. Sighing and starting again, I took out my pen and scanned along each and every line through each of the pages, scanning for similarities between them. Finally, after another 35 minutes, I had found a vital piece of information; out of all of the differences between all of the equations, they all shared one piece of algebra. I took my pen and the piece of paper and drew it onto the wall.

_ћ_ = ∞ lI=Il

I reassembled the lamp and moved the table, aimed at the shade at the wall and began to rock backwards and forwards. For a while I simply stared at the symbols that the yellow glow had highlighted until I realised something. I don't think it was too arrogant to say that I was fairly deductive and present of mind, but I eventually realised a blinding truth; this was clearly a mathematical equation, but the first character had nothing to do with any kind of algebra. It was a Greek character, but not one that was used in algebra. It was then that I remembered how Kyon had described it, "That weird 'H' symbol." Could that be correct? And that other symbol, was that a 'H' too? No, it couldn't have been. The inner sides were shorter than the other two. The infinite symbol didn't belong in an equation that could be solved, so what did it... Could it be? No, that... Oh, my... I... Yes... Yes, that's it! Clarke, you genius! You trickster, how did I not see it before? You could have made that one a little clearer without the whole equation getting in the way of these clues, but you did it! I felt a tear sting my eye; he went through hell and could still work it out!

"Alright, Alistair, I'll give you this victory." I tell the air, an immense wave of solemn, respectful appreciation to the boy who sacrificed everything to get us out of this cursed house. I decided o simply abandon the room; we didn't need it anymore, we could get out! With high spirits, I twirl out of the door and laugh to myself slightly, glancing to my right and left out of household habit, first to the west, then to the-

The horror that I experienced in that moment cannot be justified by a thousand words. I looked to the east, where around half of the staircase ascending north was visible. There, plodding down the stairs one at a time and leaning heavily against the wall, was a pair of snow boots that had been destroyed and repaired too many times for me to count the stitches in them. The sight of the boots made my heart thunder, but the sight of the hands and face that accompanied them...

For all of the offensiveness I cause to the beloved departed, I much preferred this monster when it had no bones and its blood poured by the pint. What was once our friend hit the landing stiffly, staring at me with an arrogance that showed that it knew my fear. The only indication that this... this abomination of semi-life was once Alistair Clarke was the black suit that had crusted with brown blood and the few tufts of snow white hair that had been lucky enough to be rooted to the scalp that wasn't carved and sliced by Miss. Nagato's force field.

The thing, the foul barely-repaired body that belonged to a dead man, opened its maw and attempted speech, only managing a guttural gurgle, a scar-covered hand gripped the rusted cane that had struck me not even two hours ago. I turned and ran for my life.

_Normal POV_

Kyon watched Koizumi disappear into the room beside the stairs, thankful that he could rest again. As he passed Nagato's room, he noticed Mikuru starting to stir and awaken. Being the gentleman he hoped he was in the time traveller's eyes, he decided to fetch her some food before hitting the hay. But as he descended the stairs and entered the dining room and kitchen beneath the rooms, a scream and a thud boomed from above him very slowly. As he ran out of the dining room, he simply wasn't prepared for what he saw. He thought that Mikuru had fallen over and hurt herself, but as he reached the top of the stairs, she wasn't even in sight.

Koizumi was sprawled on the floor, his hand reaching for the open doorway where the girl screamed. He had fallen hard on his face and his nose was bleeding, but that was nothing compared to the patch of hair that was sticking together and glinted with blood that flowed from a small dent in his skull. Praying that what he was about to see would not be worse than the esper, Kyon swung around the doorway. Haruhi and Nagato were still lying on the bed, sound asleep, but the delicate flower that was the time traveller was crouched behind the bed, running her hands all over her body and screaming like a madwoman. Kyon ran to her and shook her,

"Miss. Asahina! What is it?" She flailed her arms and forced him away, falling onto her side and covering her eyes.

"No! No more!" she wailed like a tormented banshee, "I won't tell them, I promise! I won't say anything!" Nothing Kyon said could calm her down and she descended into sorrowful weeping. Kyon turned and found the esper had not moved. Kyon dodged around the bed and kneeled beside him, checking his pulse. Thank God, he's still alive! Kyon kneeled and hooked his arms beneath the esper's shoulder and twisted to roll his body, but as Kyon rotated Koizumi, he stared down the western hall. Just around that corner was a wall of equations which ended in Clarke's security room. At least, that was what Kyon wished was there. What actually leaned in a grotesque, almost casual, way against the doorframe, the scared and shaking eyes boring into his, was a thing of nightmares. A creature of pure horror. It stood and brought its disfigured hand forward, showing the blood-tipped hook of its cane with what was once a smile on its crooked jaw.

It pointed the cane at Kyon. Its message was clear. _Your turn._

_Summary!_

So, it would seem that Clarke has finally been pushed over the edge, unable to carry on. His voice has disappeared and Asakura has taken as strong a presence in his physical body as she can, controlling many dangerous aspects of the alien's powers. But Clarke was a smart guy who knew how to take advantage of a situation. Using the precious few moments that Koizumi had granted him by stunning Asakura enough for Clarke to regain minor control, our broken hero managed to transmit and imprint a fragment of his memories into Mikuru, his last salute before falling at the hands of the emancipation field. Recognising the sensation of the imprinted memories from past experiences with Clarke, Mikuru allowed herself to cross from reality into the memory. Clarke had used the fact that he no longer wore 'Friedrich's' glasses to give Mikuru the most useful memory; the secret behind his equation. The key to the escape from the house.

As Mikuru felt the thoughts of Clarke rush through her, she experienced a revelation and was equipped with the knowledge that would allow them to escape. But, in her safe haven of data many floors above, Asakura detected the piracy of memory files and disabled the programme just as Mikuru was leaving the program. As is dictated in Clarke's programming, Mikuru is not allowed to leave the space until the corrupted data within has been corrected. Only then is it safe for a human's mind to leave the data. Mikuru then enters the failsafe, a blank programme that exists between the memory she has experienced and her own mind and body.

Realising the vital information that Mikuru has learned from Clarke's memories, Asakura enters the programme herself. Deciding that it would bring her more joy to break the human than outright kill her, Asakura forces Mikuru to relive the torment, psychological trauma and physical torture that Asakura put Clarke through for a little over 200 years. Though the damage she inflicted on Clarke would have been enough to kill Mikuru's physical form millions of times over, it is only her mind that is part of the memory, not her physical body, which still sits beside Nagato's bed with a sleeping Haruhi. This means that Ryoko can allow Mikuru to experience pain that only an alien could withstand without consequence. After hours of torture, Ryoko leaves the mentally broken Mikuru in the failsafe and exits the programme, allowing the log-out procedures to proceed as planned, returning the poor time traveller back to her physical body.

Noticing that there is a repeating piece of code within Clarke's impossible equation, Kyon and Koizumi collect notes. Koizumi offers a deal to Kyon and goes off to think on his own. In his seclusion, he eventually works out what Mikuru had also worked out. Filled with joy at the chance of freedom, he runs out of the door to tell his friends of what he has found, only to encounter the horrible 'repaired' form that was Clarke, now under Asakura's control. Koizumi runs for Nagato's room, but Asakura is on his tail.

As Kyon tours the house for food, he hears a worrying thud from above him. Running back for fear that someone has been hurt, Kyon finds an unconscious Koizumi grasping at the door of Nagato's room, bleeding from a head wound. Due to Mikuru's watching the hallway, many of the timeframes were locked, meaning that Koizumi collapsed outside of the door the instant that she awoke from her torture, but that isn't to say that Asakura occupied the same timeframes. After all, 'Clarke' is now 'repaired.'

We draw to a conclusion with a murderous Clarke staring Kyon down from the stair case. Nagato is nearly dead, Mikuru has gone insane, Haruhi is unconscious and Koizumi may not live for long if he continues to bleed. Every person who worked out the key is now useless. Will Kyon find a way to escape? Will he forsake his friends for his freedom? Will he come back for them? Or will he be struck down by Asakura's hand and her vengeance on Nagato fulfilled? Time is ticking. The game is cat and mouse. The hunt is on.


	10. The Curtain Falls

_Well, here we are. This is the tenth and final chapter of 'The Boy Who Waited.' It is here that everything comes to an end. Ready? Sing me to sleep, my beloved readers, let's finish this._

Kyon's mind went hazy and his eyes began to spin. His body locked in place whilst his mind screamed for movement. Clarke began to raise his arm, the scarred limb slowly brandishing the cane with the efficiency and speed of a steam train with sand in the gears. Kyon remembered the feeling that he got when that same cane was raised to Nagato, the euphoric feeling of invincibility when threatened. But Kyon did charge the attacker. It was a different story when this monstrosity was looking down at him with the weapon raised. Beneath him, Koizumi groaned slightly and his hand started to move, distracting Clarke for a glimpse of a second as his eyes darted down. In that second, Kyon decided to take his chance. Kyon's foot slipped slightly in Koizumi's pooling blood as he launched himself into the wall, fleeing east as fast as his legs would carry him. Without a look back, he dived left and threw his body to the staircase, leaping up the stairs with athleticism that he never thought himself capable of.

* * *

><p>Back on the first floor, Ryoko slowly lowered her arm, staring down the hall and listening for her prey's footsteps. Her neck twisted so very slowly to the open doorway, to the sleeping Nagato. These humans didn't know how blessed they were for that girl to still be with them. Amidst the damaged optical nerves that had gotten confused during the repair sequence, her blurred vision strained. Even though she couldn't see it, Ryoko could feel the streams of data that poured from the door snap at her, taunting her, daring her to try her luck. But she had had much time to think, lying in that impossible room. She was not going to hurry now. Kyon could still enter the room, and with him being the only human left, it would cause many problems if he were to get back here and unlock the door like so many of his friends had learned to do.<p>

No, she would have to pursue him and eliminate him now. She could always go back for Nagato, she wasn't going anywhere. Kyon, however, he really could wreak some havoc. She set off as fast as Clarke's legs would carry her, perusing the signals that had been disturbed by Kyon's wake.

* * *

><p>Kyon couldn't count the flights that he had bounded up, each floor looking identical to the last. Out of breath and his stomach turning inside out in fear, he finally slumped against a wall and heaved in as much air as he could. Koizumi had been running, too, right to Nagato's room. Mikuru was screaming and 'wouldn't tell' Kyon anything. What was going on with them? And not only that, but Clarke was back up and running around. Well, it <em>was <em>Clarke. Now he was something that shouldn't exist in reality, something beyond even the realms of sub-human. Kyon strained his ears and whimpered slightly as the sound of a dozen drummers thundered their bass to the rhythm of lightning-quick footsteps. _Oh God, he's right below me. _Kyon began to tremble as the inevitability of death hit him with every step that echoed below him. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled frantically, hoping that the pain would birth an idea that would save him.

He pulled and pulled, bending and groaning at the floor as the footsteps became louder. He looked to his trembling knees, his shoes that felt like they were cutting off the circulation to his feet, and finally to his six shadow legs. He stood and shook himself violently, coming to a panting stop and staring down the hall and out of a wind-

"Holy shit!" he screamed, recoiling back from the face at the far end of the hall. The face recoiled too, apparently just as shocked as Kyon was. He even raised his head and stared in sync. That was when Kyon realised that he wasn't staring into the face of a demon, but rather his own. There, covering the window on the far wall, was a full-length mirror. Either Clarke had stopped moving around or he had disappeared completely, for Kyon could no longer hear any movement in the house. Maybe he'd taken a break? Or maybe he'd stopped for Koizumi- No, he couldn't think about that. He had to think of himself. With a child-like curiosity, Kyon waved to himself but not only one Kyon waved back. Behind the first Kyon, a legion of copies mimicked the original, but they were all facing different angles. Some were at a dead straight, some at ninety degrees and some with their backs totally to Kyon. The human spun and looked behind him; mounted against the wall the marked the staircase and edge of the house was another mirror. Keeping his ears sharp for the sound of movement below him, Kyon approached the second mirror. As he got closer, a glare flashed at his sides. Wincing against the sudden white glares, he checked his sides; more mirrors, leaning against the corners at angles.

Overcome with curiosity, Kyon searched the whole floor before realising what was going on; every floor bar the ground floor and the first floor, on account of the entrance hall's ceiling being two storeys high, were set out in the same fashion. With the stairs intruding a little on the eastern side, each floor had a '+' symbol of hallways that intersected four large rooms. But someone, Kyon could only guess Clarke, had set mirrors at every corner and intersection. His mind starting to calculate in a way that would humble even Koizumi, Kyon began to test all of the corners and checked the mirrors all around him before making yet another discovery; in one of the corners, just above the mirrors, was 'SOS B' in blue marker pen, the exact same colour that had been used to write that damned equation outside of the security room.

"SOS Brigade?" Kyon breathed to himself, approaching the mirror. He managed a small laugh when he saw his filthy, blood covered skin in the mirror, but there was that damn glare coming from the mirror again. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was white and greasy and his hair was matted to his skull, a real charmer. Kyon groaned and crouched out of the glare the beamed out of the mirror and was about to continue his self-inspection when he jumped at the infinite number of Kyon's also joined him. But something was wrong, they looked smaller, further away than they did before in the other mirrors. The mirrors too looked more distant.

"Damnit, Alistair, you crazy bastard!" Kyon suddenly got angry from the constant stress, "What the hell is up with these dumb-ass clues? A monkey could make better hints!" Kyon slammed his fist onto the floor like a toddler in a tantrum. He recoiled away from the falling object and hit the wall behind him hard. His pulse began to regulate once more as he inspected the item that had fallen from behind the mirror; it was a pipe. A copper pipe that looked like it should have been in the wall, and yet here it was, dusty yet still in perfect shape. Kyon began to smile a little as he slowly took his new weapon and looked back to the mirror.

"You know what, Alistair? I take that last one back. I was just being too," He laughed at his own pun in exasperated glee, "Short-sighted."

* * *

><p>Ryoko, even with all of the waiting she endured, was still finding her slow movement tedious. She had spent many, many years in the attic, trying to repair Clarke's body, but no matter how many times she tried, she could not fully repair or sync with it. Probably all of the damage Miss. Nagato dealt to it, she thought bitterly. From the disturbances Kyon had left, along with the increasing density levels of carbon dioxide in the air, Asakura could tell that he had gotten tired at the fifth floor, but had climbed further. As she reached the fifth floor, her joints started to slow once more, but judging by the density of carbon, he could have climbed no higher than the eighth floor. Taking the time on Clarke's battered watch, Ryoko found herself just in time for the room shift. Quickly hobbling for the furthest room, Ryoko stopped outside and prepared to make contact with the handle. Eleven ticks of the watch. Ten. Nine. Curious, the watch seemed to be travelling even slower than usual. Could it be that she was enjoying herself that much? She certainly felt that way. Three, two, now! Sealing the entire network of rooms with her touch, Asakura grabbed the handle and closed her eyes.<p>

Slipping into the room as fast as she could, she twirled and slammed the door, her eyes still tight shut. As she felt the data shift and transport around her, she applauded her own genius. But this was no time for bravado, she had killing to do! Opening her eyes at the precise moment, Asakura disabled the special shift and stopped herself on the eighth floor. Taking a deep breath, she leaned heavily on the cane and opened the door. She laughed a little as she stepped into the centre of the cross section and found her prey. Even with Clarke's heavily damaged optical nerves from the grid, Asakura could still make the brunette cowering on the floor. His head darted up to meet her eyes and he sighed.

"Alright, you win!" he cried, not even getting off of his belly to face his death. "Just, before you kill me, tell me one thing; how did you get up here without the stairs?" Asakura tossed the request in her head a few times before laughing softly. How cute for something so young to have the guts to ask his killer to explain them self. But what harm could it do now? Asakura cleared her tattered trachea and attempted speech for the first time in too long.

"This house is very special, as you may have guessed." Kyon winced at the voice that was like sandpaper to his eardrums. "You have already experienced the effects of the data manipulation in the rooms for yourself, but you have yet to realise the power that controls them. As Mr. Koizumi worked out, the time planes cannot be distorted when they are being actively viewed from another plane. They lock. The same goes for the room when they shift; if anything from a second space is in contact with them or observers them, the room is locked. This is how you have managed to stay on the first floor for so long. All you had to do was walk into another room, close the door and don't touch it, then close your eyes and wish for Kansas. You don't even need to close your eyes for very long, even a shared blink around the room could send you several rooms or even floors away from your original position. But I've talked quite enough." Slinging her hooked cane onto her shoulder without another word, Asakura approached her quivering prey. No, not quivering, quietly laughing.

"Something funny?" she asked, not stopping her slow stroll. Still lying down, Kyon turned his laugh to her and produced a thick cylinder. A weapon? "Cute. You think will be enough to stop me?" Kyon just laughed even more as he lunged forwards and swung with all of his might. Pointless. Asakura launched to cane over her shoulder and brought it down, the hook heading for the top of the pitiful skull. A whoosh, a thud, silence.

"What's wrong, Clarke?" Kyon laughed. Asakura's breath hitched as she opened her eyes and looked to her kill. Her non-existent kill. The cane had hit the floor but her damn nerves were to out of sync to realise! "Behind you!" Asakura whirled to finding the human smirking from the stairs.

"How..." Asakura snarled and stumbled over to him again, swinging violently at the form and meeting nothing but air. "How are you doing that?" A glob of age-old phlegm caught in her throat and choked her into silence, allowing Kyon another laugh.

"What is it, Clarke? Your eyes starting to fail you?"

* * *

><p>Kyon's laugh felt so hollow and forced in his chest, but he was having an effect on Clarke, who was looking more and more disorientated by the second. Whilst he stumbled around like a drunken bull, Kyon nimbly hopped from intersection from intersection, facing the mirrors and projecting himself around the hallway, edging closer to the stairwell. But he couldn't just hold onto the pipe; he had to use it.<p>

"Come on, Clarke, I'm over here!" Clarke spun once more and ran into the intersection before freezing and gazing around. Had he figured it out?

"Clever human." Asakura congratulated, "Clever indeed. Mirrors, all this time?" Now that she had time to look around, she noticed all of the different versions of the human, who spread his arms triumphantly.

"Well done, Clarke. For all the cleverness in your head, your eyes are really starting to let you down." With a final cocky laugh, the human disappeared and reappeared in the mirror, light footsteps echoing through the halls as a countless number of tattered humans charged at each other and phased about in the mirrors. Asakura panicked, twirling as the Kyons circled her.

"Night night, Clarke." a voice breathed behind her. She turned as quickly as she could, trying to swing her cane at the human's legs, but too late. With a blur of orange, her poor balance was cast aside and she fell to the floor.

* * *

><p>Clarke spun around and around like a top as Kyon pumped himself up, gripping the pipe tightened and tighter every time he caught sight of the corrupted boy. With a rush of courage, Kyon rounded a corner and charged Clarke from behind.<p>

"Night night, Clarke." he wheezed from lack of breath. He tried to turn but Kyon swung hard, the heavy metal slamming into his neck in a blur. Clarke fell weakly and Kyon stood in an odd silence. He panted heavily as his opponent started to twitch and arms flex, attempting to rise. No, Kyon couldn't let him get up. Clarke had said so in his video; they were to arm themselves and run for the door. What better chance would they have? Uttering a prayer for whatever remained of the alien boy, Kyon raised the pipe and struck the horror another blow. And another. Another. Over and over again, he vented his fear as rage and slammed the pipe into Clarke's head. After seven swings, he closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth alone, barely stopping himself from vomiting due to crunch and squelches the pipe caused through contact and the foul smell it was making. After several minutes of brutal bludgeoning, Kyon could aim no more. He wiped his brow of sweat and blood and stumbled away from the boy. Even as he stumbled down the stairs, he knew in his heart of hearts, that Clarke would be back up. It eased the pain of violence, to an extent.

As he reached the first floor once more, he jumped and bellowed in surprise as a claw looped around his ankle. Clarke beat him here? His heart pounding once more, Kyon raised the dripping pipe, but his new foe wasn't as deadly as he had thought. With a look of desperation, Koizumi craned his neck as high as he could manage, one hand around Kyon's shin and the other reaching up to his face. No words were necessary, for the paper note that stuck out from between his fingers was profound enough. Koizumi, blood dripping from his wound and around his lips, managed a tiny smile before falling onto the floor, his long back barely moving with shallow breaths. With shaky, panicked desperation, Kyon dropped the pipe with a loud clang and clawed Koizumi's fingers from the note, smearing the blood from his fingers onto the white crumpled paper. He stretched it out and rotated it, staring at the characters that the esper had written. For a few seconds, he froze in horror at the lack of detail. Four incomprehensible symbols, just like the ones that they had been staring at on the wall! What was the difference- Tears started to well up in Kyon's eyes as he noticed the tiny scribbles beneath the symbols. Of course! Kyon had gotten it right from the very first comment! Alistair may have made that final physics symbol a little vague, but it was clear once you found the final piece!

_ћ_ = ∞ lI=Il

_Haruhi equals infinite power_

"Ha- Ha- HARUHI!" bellowed Kyon to the note. She was it! She was the key to their escape! Of course, why didn't they think of it sooner? Kyon should have told them that they needed to escape as soon as possible, Haruhi would've taken him seriously. All he had to say was that they need to leave and Haruhi would have changed everything! Kyon nearly stomped on poor Koizumi as a series of loud thuds thundered down the stairs. With a short bellow of surprise, Kyon leaped away from the stair landing, where Clarke's deformed body had just surfed down and now strew itself across Koizumi. The beaten neck raised its face and snarled through the pouring blood, broken teeth and eye that had been beaten to a mushy pulp within the socket and let loose a primeval howl of rage. Kyon's heart pounded as his shaky legs stumbled down the hall, heading for the open doorway. Their escape from this hell was only a few feet away! Kyon dived into the room to find everything as he had left it, apart from the now sleeping time traveller. He tripped over his desperate feet and landed on his knees before grabbing Haruhi's shoulders and shaking her.

"Haruhi! Haruhi! Wake up!" he cried at the top of his lungs, fearing to turn to find the alien in the doorway. Slowly, very slowly, the sleeping girl began to stir. She groaned and pushed herself off of Nagato's knees, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Kyon, quit shouting." she groaned before fully opening her eyes, "What's wrong?" her eyes snapped open as Kyon took one arm and dragged her over the bed, leading her to the door by the wrist. He dragged her to the doorway and saw Clarke dragging himself across the floor with his right hand, the other three limbs trailing pointlessly behind.

"There! Haruhi, look! Look what happened!" Haruhi's head rolled dreamily before following Kyon's gaze. As her eyes lit on the crawling thing, she didn't fully register what she was seeing. All at once, a terrible light dawned in her eyes.

"Alistair... Koi- Koizumi!" Her breathing got heavier and she began to tremble and shake. She opened her mouth, covered her face and screamed, grasping at Kyon's sleeve and trying desperately to back away, but Kyon didn't move. She had realised! Clarke crawled still, a rasping laugh bubbling through the blood. She had realised. Haruhi had realised, so why were they still here?

Kyon couldn't move, he could barely hear Haruhi's screams; he had failed. Right now, Haruhi would be wishing she was away from here, so why was nothing happening? Why were they still here? He had failed, they had gotten it wrong. Maybe Clarke had intended a different message for them? Maybe the mirrors meant something? No, there was no denying it; Clarke had gotten it wrong. Haruhi couldn't save them. They were going to die.

"Spatial atmosphere, activate emergency subroutine three!" a croak echoed from the crawling creature. Before he could figure out what was going on, Kyon was suddenly lifted off of his feet as the weight left his body. Haruhi shrieked and gripped his arm to the point off making it go numb, burying her face into his sleeve as his head hit the ceiling.

"Kyon! Do something!" Haruhi screamed as she began to kick the air like a panicked dog caught in a rushing river. Kyon looked back to the stairs to find that Clarke was drifting into the air with them, brushing his hand along the wall to roll and pushing to propel. In a moment of panic, Kyon thrashed and his feet found purchase against the ceiling, launching him to the floor. His reflexes thrust his hands before him, bouncing him off of the floor and somersaulting towards Clarke's far slower form. In the midst of the nauseating rolling and swirling colour, Kyon spotted the blood-covered scalp rapidly approaching him. Praying that his timing would be dead on, Kyon bit his lip and thrust his feet outwards, his heels clipping Clarke's shoulder and sending him barrel rolling away and slowing Kyon to a stop. He watched as his foe spiralled and only used his right arm to clasp at the door frames, swinging his limp torso and legs into the wall with a harsh thud. Of course, Kyon had nearly incapacitated him! With the amount of head injuries, he must have disconnected something in his head! And with that eye that Kyon nearly retched from looking at, he had no depth perception either.

"Do noth underethtimate me!" the alien gurgled with a gnarled tongue, pushing away from the door frame before pulling hard and launching like a torpedo, his hand outstretched for Haruhi. As an almost instinctive reaction, Kyon stretched his body before her whilst she flailed in the air, Clarke still sailing on. Summoning the biggest swing he could manage, which wasn't a lot due to his lack of ground brace, he swung for Clarke's wrist like a batter swinging for a baseball. As the boy floated within a yard of the humans, the copper hit the boy's wrist. Kyon had predicted that he would have some form of attack ready, but there was something about the copper pipe turning to ash in his grip that startled him. As Clarke roared as he spun away, Kyon tried to bat the airborne ash away from his eyes.

"Haruhi!" Kyon spun and grabbed her by the shoulders. She was shaking uncontrollably and hadn't stemmed the flow of tears, but was shocked into silence as the spitting, cursing Brigade officer scratched at the ceiling, trying to gain a purchase. "He's not who you think he is! Just look at him! He's not even human!" Haruhi slowly raised her hands to her mouth.

"Kyon... Is this a dream? Can I wake up now?" she breathed as Clarke snarled and clawed at the ceiling for a purchase. Kyon just stared, wanting to just curl up into a ball and go to sleep. She was scared, so very frightened. She was looking at what Clarke had become, the extent of his deadly powers and her bloodied and beaten friends. This was what Koizumi had always warned Kyon about; exposing the god-like being to the horrors that occur around her. With that, he had said, her subconscious would create an alternate world in which the shinji would vent her anger. So why was nothing happening? Kyon's mind fogged and his muscles suddenly relaxed; what was the point? Her powers weren't working and there was no way he was killing Clarke. He wasn't dodging death by defending himself against Clarke, he was just delaying it for a few seconds more.

* * *

><p>Ryoko slammed her fingers into the ceiling, her nails slicing trenches into the ceiling as her numb legs shook the glass-adorned chandelier. She tensed up her arm and prepared for another launch, but something was wrong; what little feeling she still had in her functioning limb had disappeared.<p>

"Come on, you silly thing, work!" she pleaded to her arm, hoping that she wouldn't have to waste time repairing in the heat of battle. Nothing happened. The signals were getting disrupted by something, but there was no way Nagato could use her powers in this space.

"What are you doing?" she sighed to the ceiling, forgetting the humans that had propelled themselves into the kitchen to hide. Asakura's muscles locked. She feared. Her heart was suddenly pounding as a deep, repeating sound started to echo around her. The deep, thudding sound started to raise in volume, echoing within her mind. The sound of triumphant laughter.

"You know, Ryoko, my dear," Clarke crooned into her ear, "It's not healthy to talk to yourself." He started to chuckle again, raising his voice to a maniacal level as Ryoko lost control of her breathing, still frozen with her hand dug into the roof. "What's the matter, my pretty? Hearing voices in your head?"

"How... How are you still here? You died, disappeared, you should no longer exist within this-"

"I died?" he laughed softly, "News to me. When did I ever give you the impression that I died? Was it because I was _really quiet_?" he whispered with a childish laugh. Ryoko didn't reply. How could she have been so stupid? So naive? She started to pull herself out of control of the body, but she felt a firm hand on her back. "No no, Ryoko, that's not being fair. You'll be staying right there. Are you scared, Asakura? Does it frighten you when your body no longer obeys? Do you tremble uncontrollably when you are made to dance like a puppet? Take a walk in my shoes, not that you haven't been doing that already." Without her giving a single order, her mouth began to open, letting wobbling spheres of blood drift into the air.

"Deactivate emergency subroutine three!" she gargled in triumph that felt like acid in her throat. Her breath suddenly returned and inflated her lungs as the weight returned, her fingers still embedded into the cracking plasterwork of the ceiling.

"Get- Get out of my head! We're so close! You can't stop me now!" Her fingers quivered in the ceiling until she was forced to look away from the falling paint and dust.

"This little piggy went to market!" Her smallest finger and thumb prized their way out. "This little piggy drank the rum," Her ring finger wrestled free, "This little piggy had roast beef!" Her middle finger also burst free from the ceiling, her forefinger the only digit saving her from a two storey drop. "And this little piggy, Miss. Asakura, had none!" She could do anything. She had no control. All she could do was listen to the voice laugh in the deepest depths of her mind and fall through the air, hit the ground hard and give a loud pop.

"What now, Alistair? What do you plan to do? You may have control over your body from where I can't reach you, but you don't have control over me. You'll never get that door open-"

"Can I have a party?" he interrupted suddenly, silencing her speech of denial.

"Pardon?"

"I said, can I have a party? You know, invite a few friends over, set out a few drinks." Her wrist was winched into the air, showing her the watch that had slowed to a stop under the lack of gravity. "My, look at the time! Our first guest should be arriving at any moment." Ryoko was about to ask what he meant, but the explosion of data above her head answered her. An attack of data on the house? At this magnitude?

"What is that?" she screamed to the boy in her mind, "What have you done?" Clarke only laughed as the roof began to shake under the force of the data. The walls began to struggle under the tremendous weight, Ryoko's precious construction weakening with every second.

"Me?" Clarke replied in a threateningly calm voice, "Oh no, Ryoko, you brought this upon yourself." The data of the roof tiles exploded and collapsed, a deafening roar overcoming all other senses as the great flow of data tumbled down before her. As the timber beams and rolls of carpet spilled from the hole in the ceiling, there was no avoiding the powerful blue glow that dominated the room.

"Behold, Ryoko, the power of something incomprehensible. Something beyond the powers of matter and data combined, something truly awesome. Behold the shinji." The huge, footless leg wobbled uncertainly before lifting and rushing forward, ploughing through the front door and removing half of the wall. Somewhere in the dining room, the two humans screamed at the being, but that didn't matter to Ryoko. What did matter was the swirling white snow that danced and glowed in the hue of the great being against the grey skies.

"2200 years you kept me in this house, Asakura." Clarke snarled, rotating his body to the rift in the house that the giant had created. "For over two millennia, you kept me in this hell hole, using me as a pawn in your plan. For two millennia I've been carefully dancing around you, laying this trap. Did you truly expect to trump me? Me, the foreman?" Clarke paused for a moment to enjoy the sound of a powerful buzzing darting above their heads. The shinji roared and flailed, nearly levelling the house as a sky-blue sphere, one of the only things in the grey world that emitted colour, circled its undefined shoulder. The esper inside piloted the strange weapon around the limb at lightning speeds, turning the ball into a blurred ring with his speed. Great blue bolts cracked and hissed and a snap that rebounded from the trees nearly blew Ryoko's eardrums as the shinji roared, the speed of the esper ripping the arm from the body. Clarke reached forwards, grabbed a splintered floorboard and heaved them forwards, heading for the blistering cold.

"Stop. Stop! What are you doing?" Ryoko screamed at him, "I will not be denied my revenge!" Clarke didn't listen to a word.

"What's the matter, Asakura? We've entertained our guests long enough. Now it's time for us to take a bow." He chuckled slightly with every inch that brought him closer to the grey world. "One. Final. Bow." Ryoko screamed at him, straining the signals, trying with all of her might to stop the arm that pulled them to the cold. But Clarke didn't say a word to her, he just laboured on with his screaming captive in tow. As the pair of espers that raced above their heads like excited moths finally sliced the shinji's evil red eye to pieces and destroyed the creature, the great grey dome disintegrated, though the melancholy grey of the area didn't change much. As Clarke reached the welcome mat beside the broken door, he stopped.

"Farewell, Miss. Ryoko Asakura." he whispered to the girl, plunging his hand out into the world and into the pure white snow. Ryoko's mind screamed in anguished fear as the two data types collided and contradicted, the force of the universe denying her very existence. As the snow danced in the wind, the streams of data joined it, flowing and glittering like a hundred angel's tears as they faded from reality.

* * *

><p>The roar of the great beast thundered above them as Kyon and Haruhi cowered under the table, praying that its great arm wouldn't sweep them off the face of the earth. Was this Clarke's plan? This would get them all killed! Kyon had only heard it once before from afar, but the unmistakable snap of a shinji being destroyed shook his very bones. But that wasn't the only thing that was reaching his bones; another was a bitter chill that was rolling in from the torn-up hole in the wall. Haruhi was gripping his arm so tightly that his fingers had lost feeling, and she squeezed a little more when the table turned to what looked like airborne glitter around them, fluttering away with-<p>

"Where's the house going?" Haruhi demanded as the carpeted wood beneath them disappeared, suddenly dropping them into the deep snow and freezing them. Kyon didn't dare believe what his brain was telling him; he was free? He had escaped? But if that was true, then that meant-

"Koizumi!" a strangely familiar voice cried. Kyon raised his head and saw two uniformed figures wading through the snow a little way off. One was tall and thin whilst the other a little shorter than Kyon, holding what appeared to be a dress. Kyon peered at them and realised that it was Koizumi's friends from the island, back in summer! It was the 'maid' Miss. Mori and the old 'butler,' Mr. Arakawa, two members from the Agency that Koizumi worked for. They kneeled in the snow and heaved Koizumi's limp form onto Arakawa's surprisingly strong back. The brunette didn't look good, but his head was being bandaged and he appeared to be moving a little. Kyon thanked whatever gods there were for saving them. There was a small hiss where the door of the house was stationed only seconds ago, snow flying into the air like dust. A short, gasping sound was coming from the clouds of powder snow, along with several flying limbs. Kyon's jaw hung as Nagato suddenly staggered past him, her tiny legs ploughing through the deep snow with ease. With a wrench of the heart, Kyon realised who the alien girl was approaching. Kyon didn't follow.

* * *

><p>Clarke's body juddered as the corrupted data was blasted to pieces and flowed from his skin, leaving him drained and panting in the freezing snow. Everything that Asakura had caused, everything that had happened to his body whilst in that damn house, just flowed from his skin and joined the rest of the data. His soft white hair sprouted and flowed back down to his brow, his skin cleared and scars healed, even his eyes gained a little flicker of life. He had made it. He was alive. As he lay there, staring up into the gently falling gale, he felt a familiar presence approaching. As the girl with lavender hair dropped to her knees beside him, he felt her lift his head onto her lap and his heart was soothed.<p>

"Ah, Yuki. My sweet, darling Yuki." He reached his hand up and gently brushed her cheek, smiling as he felt the velvet smooth skin at his touch. "I tried my best. Did I make you proud?" His small smile didn't give an inch as a tear welled in his eye and slowly rolled onto his cheek bone. "I'm so sorry, Yuki; I tried to hurt you. But... at least... you're all safe now." He started to strain between his words as his eyes closed slightly and his smile turned sad. "Oh my, it seems that the D.I.T.E has found my corruption. They... They're signalling for my immediate deletion." He gave a dry laugh,

"Well, I can't say I didn't expect this. Looks like our time is short, eh, my sweet?" His tears began to grow in number as the silent alien girl slowly shook her head, gazing into his golden eyes as she stroked his hair gently. "It's alright though," He nodded slightly as his free hand clasped hers, giving her cold skin a burning kiss, "Because I'm going to die surrounded by my yuki."

His eyes opened a little wider and the breath was forced from his lungs. He daren't look down, for he could feel that the data that composed his legs was starting to fade, his deletion process beginning. Before he could take three more breaths, he could no longer feel his love's skin at his fingertips. As his chest began to fade, a single tear fell from Yuki's cheek and joined Clarke's own. With a final charming smile and a mischievous glow in his eyes, Clarke whispered,

"Yuki, I love you." Yuki's face began to tremble a little as she parted her lips,

"Alistair, I..." She couldn't utter the next word, for there was no need; Alistair Clarke was already gone. The data swirled away from her, twirling around her and rustling her hair. The six humans who stood amongst the old site of the house suddenly fell into the snow, the glittering memories flowing from their bodies and disappearing into the sky.

The air was still, silent, only the sound the gentle snowfall comforting the tiny alien girl who kneeled all alone, surrounded by nothing but an endless canopy of grey. She was thankful that the humans were asleep, for no one was there to see her curl into a ball and begin to cry.

_Epilogue_

Several weeks later, the memories of the alien foreman had disappeared. As far as the human race was concerned, the being that was Alistair Clarke never existed. But the lavender haired girl that walked through the dark streets was no human. The alien girl stopped before the high school and stared at the darkened structure. Her breath steamed before her, giving her still form a strange statuesque look. Yuki couldn't take it anymore. She could no longer suffer this smothering silence or the heart that still ached for the foreman. But she no longer _had_ to suffer, for she would change it all. She would change reality itself for her lost love. With a deep breath of bitingly cold air, Yuki changed all that was, all that had been and all that would be.

But as the data began to bend to her will, she remembered the smile that her love bore when he faded away. Did he want her to move on from him and live? Yuki thought about this for a moment, but decided that it was best left in the hands of a being that she trusted, someone who could empathise with her. It would all depend on that one strange human boy who had gotten caught in a world that wasn't his own. Yuki just wished that he would make the right choice.

_Two days later_

As Kyon vowed his protection over Yuki from the D.I.T.E, she thanked him for the sentiment. As he gave her his coat and made for the door that would take him off of the roof, Yuki sighed a little. He had chosen the old world. He had made the wrong choice.

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><p><em><span>Summary, followed by Author's Note<span>_

Fleeing Asakura, Kyon stumbles upon a trap, previously set by Alistair, on one of the upper floors. The alien had set mirrors to an angle down each of the hallways, giving each ending an image of the person that was in hiding. Using Ryoko's poor eyesight and a little luck, Kyon managed to confuse Ryoko and attack her, giving him time to disable most of the body and flee downstairs. Once there, Kyon encounters Koizumi, who hands him the final equation that he had solved before he was attacked. By using algebra and the physic symbol for "power source," Clarke had communicated that Haruhi was the key to their escape. Kyon does not have long to consider this, however, as a barely-functioning Ryoko tumbles down the stairs, her only aim to kill him.

Kyon rouses Haruhi and shows her the unspeakable horror that has occurred in the house, but it seems to have no effect. Little did Kyon realise at the time, but the timeframes within the house were all far slower than the outside world, meaning that barely a second had passed to everyone else since the Brigade entered the house. Two espers, Mori and Arakawa, had been waiting for several hours for Koizumi's arrival back at the ski lodge, where the Brigade had taken an early-winter vacation in hopes of staging a second murder mystery for Haruhi's amusement. Once they had been waiting for a while, the two espers noticed that a large body of Closed Space had suddenly appeared on the mountain and naturally rushed to destroy the shinji that inhabited it.

As Ryoko deactivated the gravity in the house in hopes of increasing her mobility and killing the humans and Nagato before anyone could interfere, Mori and Arakawa were already battling the rage-filled beings outside. Returning from a dormant-like state within his own mind, Clarke returns with the roles reversed against Ryoko. He commands his own body against Ryoko's will and waits for the shinji to open up a hole in the house, which one inevitably does. Bidding a final farewell to Ryoko, Clarke bridges the gap between the two spaces of data that were her house and the world, bringing Ryoko's creation to an end. As the Closed Space dissipates and the house fades, so do Clarke's wounds.

With Yuki cradling his head as he draws his last breaths, the Data Integration Thought Entity detects that Clarke was recently corrupted and promptly deletes him, along with the human's memories of him. Dying without ever hearing Yuki utter the words 'I love you,' Clarke fades into data and drifts away on the wind, leaving Yuki to cry alone in the wilderness.

Through the grief of Clarke's death and the regret of never admitting her love for him, Yuki is driven to start the events of 'The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya.' After Kyon makes his legendary choice to stay in the old world rather than Yuki's perfect one, we draw to a close as our silent hero laments this choice, wishing desperately to be with the one she loves.

_Author's Note_

Well, there you have it. Ryoko is gone, as is Alistair. His last effort in the world was to protect those who he cared for. He died 'surrounded by yuki,' referring to both the snow that fell and the love of the girl. Clarke is a lost tome, my forgotten chapter to 'The Melancholy.' The human's minds fill in the blanks with their own experiences, but poor Yuki remembers it all. Who knows if she ever let go of her memories?

For those who have only watched the anime of Haruhi Suzumiya, the ski lodge and strange house I have been referring to all starred in the third story, 'Snowy Mountain Syndrome,' in the fifth Suzumiya novel, entitled 'The Rampage of Haruhi Suzumiya.' Other stories in the fifth novel include 'The Day of Saggitarius, The Endless Eight and The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina.' The storyline for 'Snowy Mountain Syndrome' is Koizumi's second try at creating a murder mystery in the early winter for Haruhi. Due to Tsuruya's strange and unexplained connection with the Agency, she allowed Koizumi to borrow her wealthy family's ski lodge, but things turn south when the Brigade get lost in the snow, thus being the starting point for both SMS and TBWW. I won't spoil the story for you, but its a little disappointing.

I would like to thank you, dear reader, for sticking with the Brigade until the very end. It has been a pleasure and an honour to entertain you and to receive such positive thanks from both overseas and close to home. Though this marks the end of Alistair Clarke, we have yet to find out where it all began. So, if you please, can an eye on me, for 'The Boy Who Played' will be released soon!

Once again, thank you!

Liam, the 'Don of Lolz.'


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